O tidings of comfort and joy (Doctor Who Advent Calendar)
by Dr.Dalek
Summary: With an amnesic Doctor on the run, Jack has an presentiment that this is only the beginning. 24 days 24 chapters. Over all a fluffy story, yet with hints of angst, depression abuse and prostitution. Later chapters will contain M rated scenes, but you'll be warned.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note**_ : **Hello and welcome to my Doctor Who Advent Calendar of 2015!**

 **For this story I've teamed up with TraditionalGaily, so watch out!**

 **With every new day there'll be a new chapter uploaded; be sure not to miss any of them :D  
**

 **Reviews are highly valued, so feel free to spill your thoughts!  
And thanks for reading! **

* * *

Thin grey mist curled upon the country lane, distorted and reshaped by every warm current, every slight breeze, every car that travelled through the fog.

The Doctor stood in the wet grass, dewdrops hanging from every leaf above him, staring into the grey nothingness in front of him.

He was waiting for something; he just knew it.  
Something was about to happen very soon. He should be here. Or somewhere around here...

He turned. Another car had passed, dispersing the foggy air.  
And it was getting dark.

Aimlessly he wandered about the forlorn pasture, following the country lane beside him, trotting until his feet hurt, continuing to amble along ponderously.  
Every sound was drowned and killed by the thick and heavy fog.  
And the darkness was spreading...

The Doctor came to halt, staring at the intersection in front of him.  
Now, which way to go?

He breathed in deeply. He was called. He was needed.  
Somewhere.  
Someone was possibly waiting for him.  
If only he could remember...

The Doctor extricated a grubby paper from his coat pocket, reading the scribbled note thoughtfully  
"Pawnbroker's Daily, 24 Hatton Wall;"  
and in the same handwriting, but in big letters and double underlined  
" 1st December!"

The Doctor scratched his head, the numbness that had held his thoughts in its grip draining from his mind.  
Of course. That's where he was supposed to be. Hatton Wall.  
He stared at the gloom, wonderingly.  
Wherever that was...

He wasn't quite sure _what_ it was he should pick up on the 1st December.  
But he'd definitely find out as soon as he got there.  
Hopefully there, he added to himself as he went along the wrong way, he'd find out who he was, too.

* * *

Captain Jack Harkness stood in front of the colourfully decorated mall, staring at the flashing lights with disdain.  
"When I asked you to accompany me to my trip to London" Jack growled and glared at the bags Gwen was carrying "I hadn't had Christmas shopping in mind."

"I know, Jack" snapped Gwen reproachfully "but you said we could take a break."  
"But when I said that we could take a break" Jack went on "I meant that we could get something to eat."  
Gwen strode to the black SUV, cramming in the bags amongst packages and other newly gained belongings.  
"Incidentally, why didn't you get something to eat while I was shopping?" asked Gwen, her hands now akimbo.  
Jack grumbled something Gwen couldn't quite catch before clapping his hands together and saying:  
"Alright. Let's have lunch."  
"It's a bit late for lunch" Gwen said as they walked down one of the shopping streets.  
"It's never too late to have lunch" contradicted Jack and laughed in his usual heartily manner.

"Let's have something with..." Gwen began before noticing that Jack had stopped in front of a large shop-window.  
She smiled. "And you told me that we're not here to go shopping."  
"I'll be right back" was all Jack had to say before dashing through the door, with its archaic doorbell tinkling.

Gwen regarded the window thoughtfully. She'd never liked these kinds of shops; the display was littered with old jewellery, exotic artefacts or one or two small statues that had been costlier than expected.  
And, no matter where you went, there was always a limitless amount of watches...

Jack was back after a minute or two. At least, someone who looked like Jack, Gwen came to notice. But if you knew him then you'd realize that he was like a different person, with the familiar laughter lines erased by an expression of grave concern and a nervous twitch around his lips.  
Gwen furrowed her brow and grasped Jack's hand, alarmed by his disconcertment.  
"What's the matter, Jack?" she asked quietly.  
"I'll get back to the car" he said in a distant voice, his facial expression getting darker every moment.  
"Jack?"  
"I'm... there's something I have to..." Jack mumbled while slowly turning, his eyes staring penetratingly at the distance, focussing on objects only he could see.  
"Jack, what's happened?" Gwen went on persistently.  
As Jack turned, his eyes only rested on her for a second before a look of deep sorrow swept across his face.  
"I left my phone in the car" he explained, half-heartedly "I have to make a call."

Jack headed back, moving as if caught in a dream; there was no sound from the noisy street, no people in front of him.  
The world had become a mindless grey fog.  
His hand clamped over the safely wrapped bundle.

It ticked dutifully.

* * *

Yeah, that was the problem, wasn't it? Apart from the rain of course, the Doctor thought while ambling along the wet lane.  
He didn't know who he was. He'd woken up somewhere around here.  
But he hadn't risen from sleep. The next thing, and incidentally first thing, he knew was that he was standing in a benighted forest, staring at nothing in particular.  
And he just kept on moving, without any sense of direction.

A loss of memory, of some sort.  
Dissociative amnesia, his mind suggested; a psychological trauma as possible cause. Or even post-traumatic amnesia.  
So it's a repressed memory, right? Maybe after an accident of some sort?  
Could be, his inner voice agreed.

The Doctor patted his pockets to find them almost empty.  
The remains of his memory could be held in one hand; possibly a bad sign, he thought:  
The aforesaid note with the marked date, a pair of glasses (which meant that he was a four-eyes, bloody brilliant) a futuristic pen that didn't work and some small coins of dubious origin, assumed foreign.  
He couldn't even read the bloody figures embossed on them.

The Doctor shoved his belongings back into his coat; another car passed him.  
Alright.  
Let's summarize what we know: I'm in the middle of nowhere, no money, no phone, no memory, no definite destination, I don't know who I am and I'm not quite sure whether or not I should be worried because it's getting dark and I haven't yet found out if I'm afraid of the dark.  
So, the best sensible thing in this situation to do is...  
 _Run._

The Doctor obeyed.  
It must have come out of nowhere; somewhere out of the deepest corners of his mind.  
But it had sounded familiar.

After a short distance of about 10 yards he halted abruptly, staring into the mist ahead.  
The headlights were still there.  
A car had stopped beside him, a window opened slowly.

"Oi! Wanna hitch a ride?"  
The Doctor came closer and lowered his head a bit. He stared a young driver in the face.  
"I'm...sorry, I... Could you please tell me in which direction you are heading?" he asked meekly.  
The man gave him an enquiring glare.  
The Doctor took a deep breath, rearranging the words in his head again.  
"Could you take me to London, please?" he tried again.  
The driver started to smile "Get in, then."

"Thanks" mumbled the Doctor. He took the seat beside the driver before they set off into the wet darkness.

The Doctor regarded the scenery thoughtfully.  
He must have been here before. Everything seemed so... familiar.  
As if he'd been here all his life. Most of it, at least...

"Got any family there?" the driver asked conversationally.  
The Doctor set beside him, a strange silence radiating from him. The sky seemed darker than before.  
After careful consideration he replied: "No. Not anymore."  
And he leaned back in his seat to evade the driver's gaze, blinking back the tears.

The sudden feeling of loneliness swept over him silently. The Doctor felt as if he'd been pushed into an icy ocean, the dark waves too high for him to even catch a glimpse of the shore.

And what he knew was that he knew nothing at all as his mind was cold white oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note:_  
**

 **This chapter contains a hidden allusion to the fan fiction writer who actually inspired me to this story. Guess who it is?  
**

* * *

"Morning, mate."  
The Doctor blinked and stretched before yawning. Of course. He'd been in the car. Though it was, against the driver's announcement, still pitch black outside.  
"I'm terribly sorry" he mumbled somnolent "I must have dozed off."  
"Haven't missed much" the driver reported and gave a quiet chuckle.

There was a humming sound.  
The Doctor listened intently. The heavy rain drummed on the roof of the car, a constant and relaxing noise, trickling into his head, oscillating his thoughts until they resonated in unison.  
It was a soothing sound and the Doctor felt himself snuggling up against his seat as he closed his eyes.  
Somehow it provoked a feeling of... complacency? Was that what it felt like?

The Doctor waggled his hand in front of his eyes a few times before wiping his face and rubbing his tired eyelids.  
Cor, if his mind wouldn't stop spinning soon he'd have to sell it to a funfair in dire need of a roundabout.

"'s everything alright?" he driver asked, mild concern resonating his voice.

"Yeah, sorry" mumbled the Doctor, still staring down on his hands "I'm just a bit... er...what's the word when you're looking for something you can't put your finger on but know it's there?"  
"Paranoia?" ventured the driver.  
"No, not that. It's like you don't know what word you want to say when you're searching for it..."  
The Doctor bit his lower lip, his fingers ruffling his hair "Think, think, think... Something... rhymes with bemused..."

There was a short pause before the driver tried: "Boozed?"  
"Could be, could be" the Doctor nodded, his brow still furrowed in a knot of disorder.  
"Anyway, thanks again for picking me up."

"Don't mention it" the driver dismissed the thanking comment immediately.  
"It's not like it's never happened to me that I've completely lost my memory after a drinking bout" he chuckled briefly before adding "at least you didn't wake up on a sheep-run with the curious odour of wet animal in your nose and bits of wool hanging out of your trousers."

The driver paused; with the pending answer still missing he turned to face the silent Doctor wonderingly.  
"Or did you?"  
The Doctor snapped back into reality. "What? Oh, no... no, no, it was just..."  
"Yeah... right..."  
The Doctor shot the driver a quizzical glare who, in return, giggled knowingly.

The Doctor leaned back in his seat and sighed, thoughtfully regarding the dark landscape.  
The drumming of the rain was still there, calming his nerves and singing in a tongue he couldn't understand.

"So" the talkative driver began once more "Any plans for tonight?"  
The Doctor's puzzlement was reflected in his pensive glance.  
"You know... live it up, go on a pub crawl, that sort of thing."  
Eventually the Doctor shook his head.

The driver eyed him up carefully, while the Doctor had to wonder whether this contributed to traffic safety.  
Eventually he asked, in a voice heavy with a strange interest:  
"Would you like to?"  
And the Doctor stared down at the hand that was placed upon his knee.

* * *

"Jack, what is it?"  
Gwen was still worried sick about Jack. He had hardly touched the takeaway meal (though he'd ravened it as a mid-nights snack); and he'd merely said a word since they'd returned to the car.  
And, Gwen was sure about that, he was in no condition to drive a vehicle that couldn't only flatten unheeding bystanders but aliens, too.

"Jack, this is ridiculous" Gwen went on, arms folded in front of her chest "You're gonna stop right now and tell me what's happened or I'm going to call the police."  
"Technically speaking we're above the police" Jack retorted after a while, and Gwen was somewhat relieved to have him finally replying again. He even brought himself to a brief smile:  
"We're even driving a Black Maria of some sort."  
"What's the matter?" Gwen pegged away.  
Jack sighed; it was a sweet, heart-wrenching sigh that made you feel guilty without any reason what so ever. Unless of course you've been working long enough with him to suss it out.

Jack sighed again; this time it was more wrought than pitiful.  
"It's the Doctor" Jack began when Gwen was already rolling her eyes "Something's wrong."  
"That goes without saying" Gwen sighed, her arms folding absent-minded in front of her chest, "Something's always wrong when the Doctor's involved."

"But it's different this time" Jack explained, pulling over and switching off the engine. "We need to find the Doctor."  
Jack got out of the car, stretching, breathing in the cool night air while staring into the dimly light sky; it was dawning already. He headed for the back of the car, taking a small device (resembling a twisted hexagon crossed with a particle counter) from the boot before he strode off.

Gwen opened her door, shouting after Jack.  
"I thought you had ways of contacting him" she interjected as she hopped onto the dark cobbles and slammed the car door shut.

Jack's attention was drawn towards a moving bag of old tatters.  
A second glance revealed that it wasn't as much a bag as a shabby old man (its maleness indicated by its enormous scraggy beard only), though his garments could barely qualify as anything other than rags. And he didn't as much move as writhe; a complicated movement of muscles working against one another only that the old man would remain in his current position.

"Bugg'rit, bugg'rit, rag and bones, bugg'rit" the old bludger said in what seemed to be a self-protective way. (How he'd managed to indicate that remained a mystery to Jack, though.)  
He, on the other hand, was staring at what looked like the wretched (although stretched) remains of a tortoise.

Gwen had joined Jack's side, her hands covering her mouth as she caught a glimpse of what squishy bits were left of a that former animal.  
"The poor thing" she whispered empathizing "Do you think _we_..."  
"No" Jack said, defending himself even before Gwen had verbalized the accusation "and it must have been dead anyway. It's bloody cold."  
The futuristic device in his hands gave a distressed 'beep', calling Jack's attention to it.  
He stared down at the noise little tool before lifting his gaze to the ragged man in front of him; slowly he advanced.

Jack was looked at askance as the hobo shambled his way to the squashed tortoise, picking up the remains in a self-reliant way.  
He shrugged at the bystanders after becoming aware of both Jack's and Gwen's distressed stares.  
"There's very good eating on one of those, bugg'rit" he murmured, scooping up the wobbly tortoise bits with its own shell.

"I think I'm going to be sick" Gwen hissed before turning her back on the pitiable sight.  
Jack sighed; after a moment of silence (disturbed only by the squelching noises of compressed entrails being scrapped off the pavement, accompanied by the dosser's grumbled comments "So much for the Turtle's Hunting Ground, bugg'rit").  
Gwen lifted her gaze as Jack patted her on the shoulder.  
"Let's get going."

He pushed Gwen forward, not allowing her to catch another glimpse of the rather messy scene behind them.  
The device in his hands protested again.  
"What's that?" Gwen asked, even if it was only to keep the more disturbing thoughts away.  
"It detects reality interferences, presently attuned to Time Lords; whenever there's an unidentified energy sources it scans the repository, data given in Time Lord – Resonance –Readouts, short TRR."

"So we can track him down" Gwen concluded.  
Jack scratched his head nervously, staring down at the flashing lights. The 'beeps' came as irregularly as before, "Not quite. We don't even know whether or not he's on earth."

Though I doubt that he got far, Jack thought bitterly.  
"And," he went on while staring at the horizon "there's another problem."

Ablaze with refreshing light the first clouds vanished as the first rays of sunlight arose above the city.

"He might not even be himself."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks for the followers and favourites! And a special thanks to all our readers (both and TraditionalGaily bow before you)**

* * *

A pale azure chased away the last remaining stars and illuminated the gloomy sky; thick streaks of sallow clouds covered up most of the horizon, which turned to a glowing orange in the morning sun.  
A fiery gold.  
The Doctor stared up to find, shading his eyes against the bright sunrise.  
He hadn't slept that night, not after the strange ride to the city he'd had.  
It had all turned out well in the end, he'd been dropped off near Hatton Wall and was assured that he wouldn't miss his destination.

The driver had been nice and all, sure… just a bit odd.  
The Doctor didn't know how to feel about it.  
He'd been talkative. He'd been in good humour. He'd been quite friendly…in an intrusive manner.

The Doctor shuddered at the memory.  
He'd tried to be polite and had removed that brash hand from his knee as kindly as possible.  
And the driver had just stared at him; and then he'd laughed. It had been an honest and simple laugh.

If it hadn't been for that…  
The Doctor sighed.  
If he hadn't been driving, he was certain, he would have been drunk. But he wouldn't get boozed, pick up a stranger and drive him to London, would he? That would have been illegal, wouldn't it?

Something at the back of his head reminded him that he was probably too gullible for this world.

The beautiful scenery above was blocked by the oncoming fog.  
The Doctor frowned. He was missing something. Something that should be in his pockets…  
He palpated his coat.  
He didn't leave anything with that strange driver did he? No, he reminded himself by sifting through his belongings, it hadn't been there.  
 _It_ wasn't there.  
Whatever it was.

The Doctor breathed out noisily, whistling through his teeth.  
And it was still so damn early in the morning.  
And he was all alone. If only there was someone he knew…

"Bugg'rit?"  
The Doctor turned at the strange assertion behind him. Since there was a rather strange old man sitting on a cold door step, the Doctor assumed it must have belonged to him.  
"'xcuse me?" the Doctor asked irritated while a pair of deep-seated, olden eyes stared back at him wearily "Come again?"

"Bugg'rit, them things gnawing through my stuff again" the old codger mumbled; he rummaged through a patched up sack.

The Doctor came closer. His conversation partner was a bit on the heavy side, arms like logs, a round face with red cheeks and an extremely bulged stomach, which definitely topped it off.  
Although a bit on the smelly side, the Doctor wouldn't have thought for a moment that this rough sleeper's presence was displeasing, quite the contrary.  
The old fat man's appearance radiated…  
What was it exactly? Contentedness, perhaps? Folly? Or even other things ending with -olly…

The Doctor shrugged at his own monologue and sat down beside him.  
The rough sleeper didn't seem to mind, he was already occupied with a notebook of some sort.

A quite shiny notebook, come to think of it.  
The Doctor stared at the steely-grey cover. There was writing there, definitely writing, or at least a pattern of some sort… And all those circles…

"Push off!"  
A door behind both of them had opened a crack and a rather upset shop assistant was staring at the hobo, who didn't seem a bit concerned but billowed off anyway.  
"You too" the shop assistant clarified as the Doctor found himself still staring him in the face.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry…" the Doctor said as he brushed himself off and looked down the street.  
The rough sleeper had already accumulated in a new sheltered corner.  
"…sorry again. But if you'd be so kind as to tell me, or rather just point me in the direction… I'm looking for Pawnbroker's Daily..."

"Why haven't you said so before?"  
The shop assistant had closed the door behind the Doctor, the ringing bell above it finally falling silent.  
"So, what was it?"  
The Doctor stared at him blankly.  
"Sorry?"  
"What you were supposed to ransom" the shop assistant went on "This is a pawn shop, after all."  
The Doctor was brooding over this.  
"Right" he said eventually "yeah, I was just… you know, it's…"  
"What kind of item was it you hocked?" the shop assistant enquired, taking a look at the Doctor's note. "That's definitely the shopkeeper's writing, but he hadn't given you any number of the item at all. Funny, really…"

His gaze travelled over the papers on the counter.  
"It was small and round" the Doctor ventured "And metal; definitely metal." The shop assistant blinked, not changing his expression.  
"A watch?" he asked "You're looking for a watch, Mr...?"

"Smith" the Doctor snapped, adding a bit worriedly "John, I think. Yes. John Smith."  
"Of course, I may better..." the shop assistant mumbled, eyeing him up closer.  
"It was a watch" the Doctor interrupted hastily "sorry, must have slipped my mind. A watch. Definitely a watch."  
But the Doctor's confusion didn't resolve after taking a look at the watches.  
"You're two days late" the shop assistant added sighing while tucking them away again, "It might as well have been sold already."  
He eyed the Doctor up closely through his narrow glasses. " _If_ it had been here."

"Yeah, of course" the Doctor mumbled while running a hand through his hair "but thanks, anyway."

The ringing falling silent behind him the Doctor left the shop, wandering aimlessly through the awakening streets.

It had been a watch; most certainly a watch. Coming to think about it he remembered a tick in his pocket. A mechanical heartbeat that was gone now.  
Yes, a watch. It must have been a watch.  
He sighed as he strolled along the opening shops.

So he was short one watch.  
Oh yes, and his wallet. He didn't have a wallet on him (which sooner or later, he guessed, would become quite bothersome).  
Oh, and of course his memory. He still hadn't regained that one.  
But apart from it was perfectly alright, his mind tried to convince him.

Yeah, he thought. And cold.

* * *

"So basically, we want to know where you let our friend off."  
The young stranger in front of Gwen folded his arms in front of his chest, watching her closely.  
"I know nuffin" he replied eventually and pointed an accusing finger in Jack's direction "an' what's he doing with my car?"  
Jack rounded the car for the second time. The device in his hand gave a reassuring 'beep'.  
Gwen's attempt towards a placid smile failed to provide the tranquillity she had hoped for.  
"A minor incident, that's all... erm... a technical difficulty."

She turned around, searching Jack's gaze desperately.  
"Jack?"  
Jack joined her side quickly, his knuckles whitening in anger.  
"Let me handle that" he said as calmly as he could before shoving Gwen aside. "Now you listen to me" he addressed the stranger unusually (and definitely unnecessary) harshly "We know that you've picked up someone on your way here and I'm warning you one last time: if you don't tell us were the Doctor is, there's going to be trouble."  
The young man met Jack's gaze staunchly.  
"I know nuffin about a Doctor of some sort" he said huffishly "and now give me back my car keys."

"Okay, that's it, I'm gonna..." Jack began but was hastily interrupted by Gwen apologizing.  
"We're sorry for bothering you" she said mock-meekly "We've trespassed on your time long enough. It's just that... our friend's gone missing and we're desperate to find him."  
The young man's stern air seemed to thaw.  
"So... he's not in trouble?" he asked cautiously.  
"No" replied Gwen "and neither are you. But our friend has had an accident and is suffering from amnesia." "Wicked" the young man replied, failing to catch the expression on Jack's face, "So he's like not knowing where he's going or something?"

"Yes... perhaps" Gwen replied while nodding uncertainly.  
"Dropped him off a corner near Hatton Garden" the stranger replied innocently "but he didn't seem that strange. Just a bit shy." He flashed a smile that caused Jack to clench his fists; almost immediately he felt Gwen's fingers stroking his hands in a calming way.

"Hatton Garden, that's not too far from here" Gwen said cheerfully as they returned to their car.  
" _If_ he happens to still be there" Jack replied, dashing her hopes immediately "and if that stoner was telling the truth."  
"Don't drive yourself up a wall" Gwen said calmly after they'd set off again before adding hastily "or both of us, Jack, look out!"  
They passed the honking car; Jack didn't even do as much as wince.

"Stop worrying about the Doctor" Gwen said, trying to calm down again.  
"I can't" Jack replied through gritted teeth.  
"Alright, stop" Gwen folded her arms in front of her chest and went on with all the menace a young Welsh woman could concentrate (which is, surprisingly, quite a lot) vibrating in her voice "We'll give him one day. We're going to Hatton Garden and we'll wait there. If there's no sign of him in the evening we can start looking for him. But not another word until then, okay?" Gwen watched Jack's icy expression out of the corner of her eyes.

"And get some sleep" Gwen went on, a little softer than before "You're overwrought and stressed and if I hadn't stopped you, you would have reduced that young man back there into a pulp."  
"I should have" snorted Jack.  
"That's the tiredness talking" Gwen countered. After taking another look at Jack she smiled reassuringly and patted Jack's shoulder.  
"We'll find him soon enough..."


	4. Chapter 4

Night. Night again.  
The Doctor trotted past the smashed windows.  
He couldn't remember where he'd come from; he was running round in circles, that was for sure.  
He'd been in the park, sleeping on a bench.

He squinted. He'd been _trying_ to sleep on a bench. He just couldn't find sleep.  
How something so easy could be so hard...

The Doctor passed the revellers, the carousers and other lurking creatures of the dark.  
Small clouds of breath drifted off into the night sky; his teeth chattered with cold.  
He just couldn't stand it any longer.  
The park had been more alight and he'd felt secure there on his bench, hunched into a ball.  
But he couldn't stand the cold.  
As his mind had felt like it was going to freeze over he'd decided to go for a walk.  
At least he got a bit warmer while being on the move.

Shouts, cries and laughter from a pub.  
In-between... nothing.

The darkness scared him.

He was lost. He was sure he'd never felt lost before.  
But he was on his own. In the middle of nowhere.  
The Doctor would have preferred losing his track in the woods and regretted that he'd hitched a ride back there.  
After all, he thought wearily, he'd rather walked in the rain than...

He stopped.  
Something had caught his attention.

He stopped in the comfortlessly lit street and took two steps back.  
The lights of a passing vehicle had reflected the most awe-inspiring sparks and colours on a parked car's finish.  
The Doctor tumbled closer, regarding the car carefully. It's beautifully curved sides... the perfect form...  
He reached out, his cold fingers travelling over the varnish, caressing it tenderly.  
As another car approached a million sparkling explosions came into existence on the meticulously polished surface only to vanish as soon as the passing car's lights had disappeared.

"You like what you see?"

The Doctor raised his head at the remark, slowly turning around while his hands caressed the slick radiator bonnet.

He took notice of the dark silhouette to his right; with only its eyes visible, gleaming in the lantern's light, it approached the Doctor quietly.

Defensively he stepped away from the car.  
"Sorry… I didn't know… you" the Doctor uttered for lack of better words.  
"No worries" replied the stranger in a light yet fumy voice. He reached into his breast pocket, producing a lighter.

The Doctor stepped aside, his gaze travelling once more over the soigné vehicle.  
"They don't make 'em like that anymore" the stranger added to the Doctor's unspoken thoughts and as the Doctor turned around his attention was consumed by the stranger's cold blue eyes.  
He unlocked the car, giving the Doctor a sly look.

The Doctor's mind became a blur, images flashing in front of his eyes as he stared at the dark car.  
"What is it?"  
"It's a Triumph" replied the stranger, the rasp of his voice sending a chill down the Doctor's spine. After noting that his eyes had travelled down again he retorted the stranger's questioning glare.

"No, I mean what brand is it?" the Doctor tried again.  
The stranger's lost stare hadn't changed.  
"Triumph" he repeated, barely able to detain his covetousness "It's a Triumph GT6."

With a gesture that seemed to be both chivalric and obscene he flung the car door back and extended his hand to the Doctor, briefly smiling at him.

"Fancy seeing it from the inside?" he asked, acting coyly.

A cold current encompassed the Doctor, images stretching, explosion flashing in front of his eyes before sudden blackness expanded.  
Something was _wrong_ …

"Oh, come on" the stranger teased "It's a fine car, innit? You haven't even seen it from the inside."

The Doctor touched his throbbing temples. "I have…" he muttered, the darkness blocking his sight giving way for a tauntingly smiling young man.  
"You can't" replied the stranger "That's probably one of the last ones in existence. Where do you think you've seen it before?" His tin lips curled slightly as he watched the Doctor's perplexed expression.

"Warrington… in the early 70's…probably" mumbled the Doctor absent-minded.  
"What?" asked the stranger, his hands akimbo.

The Doctor snapped back. "Sorry" he mumbled half-heartedly, his mess of a mind running at high speed only to find a sufficient reply, "No. I mean yes. No, I…"

The Doctor looked down at a cigarette pack the stranger was offering him.  
He shook his head slightly before the stranger fingered for a cigarette himself.  
"Fine by me" he mumbled; a moment later thin streaks of blue smoulder drifted past the Doctor's face. "I'm dying for a smoke…"

The Doctor shivered. The cold afflicted him badly, probably not as bad as the lack of sleep and the hunger, but it was nagging on his bones none the less, chafing at his nerves, cornering his mind and choking itself to death... or that was possibly the sleeplessness speaking...

"What's your name?"  
The Doctor lifted his gaze again, the stranger's piercing eyes wrenching at the last defences off his mind.  
"My name?" the Doctor repeated, as if the idea of bearing a name was alien to him.  
"Yeah" the stranger went on, grey clouds of smoke drifting gently from his lips,  
"s'ppose everyone's got one."

"John... John Smith" said the Doctor wearily, no longer caring whether or not this name belonged to anyone.  
His visibility field shrunk slowly, the dark corners coming closer and closer...

He stared at the door on the passenger's side nervelessly. He felt the twitch starting again.  
He was exhausted. He needed some rest...

"Why don't we give her a short spin?" asked the stranger, his thin yet surprisingly strong fingers brushing against the Doctor's hand; he shuddered at the cold.  
As the Doctor's lost gaze met the stranger's searching eyes once more he went on: "My car?"  
His lips parted for a quiet chuckle before they snapped into a lecherous smile,  
"You know... a joyride?"

The car... yes, of course... the Doctor could barely hide his desperation.  
The slight hope of a warm-up in the car preponderated the appalling warning that popped up in the Doctor's mind whenever he took a closer look at his imminent companion.

Feeling the rapidly spreading frostiness in his bones he nodded.

A car door slammed, his aching back collapsed against a soft leather seat and the darkness spread past him, coating his surroundings and blocking out the nightly street's sounds.  
A warm hand was placed fondly upon his knee.  
The Doctor lifted his gaze and blinked.

The stranger smiled mildly, his icy features slowly melting away at the Doctor's closeness.

"Enjoy."

* * *

"Jack?"  
Gwen panted as she sped past the closed shops.  
"Jack?!"  
She could hardly yell for him while struggling for air.

She leaned against a post, her hands resting upon her knees as she wheezed exhaustedly.  
"Ja...Jack" she coughed. "The bloody thing goes 'beep' and he's off, jumping out of the car and disappearing into the night."

She straightened up again, her eyes scanning the street desperately.  
"Jack?!"

And there it was again. The hated 'beep' of the TRR.

As she turned she found Jack; he was standing in front of an old cigarette vending machine.  
"Aren't these outlawed?" she asked while her mind tried to speed up.  
Jack turned, his finger's clutching at the noisily blinking tool in his palms.  
As Gwen met his horror-stricken gaze, the thought just came out of nowhere.  
 _Clutching at straws_... Jack was at his wit's end.

Involuntarily her eyes widened; she mouthed the words again and again before she found the courage to say them:  
"What do we do, Jack?"

The beeping sounds stopped. Both Jack's and Gwen's eyes were drawn to the device in Jack's hands.

Jack took a deep breath.  
"That's it. No more signs of the Doctor." He lifted his gaze and Gwen backed away at the horrendous picture Jack's face had distorted into "I've lost him. I've lost _him_!"

Gwen stood there, unable to contribute anything. She felt Jack's anger, no: his desperation.  
So close... and yet...

"He must be somewhere around here..." Gwen began with what she liked to think of as her soothing voice.  
She winced at Jack kicked against the unregistered cigarette machine, screaming with rage.  
"I've lost him! I've lost him again! Whenever we're getting closer he's just...!"

"Jack, calm down" mumbled Gwen, not quite as confident as she had hoped.  
Jack screamed at the cold night sky before kicking in the vending machine's front, which spat out one last pack of smokes.

Jack grunted as he walked past her, rushing back to where they'd come from.  
Gwen hurried after him, trying to keep up.

Far off, there was the sound of wheels squeaking on the wet street before a dark green car disappeared into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

 **Warning! This chapter is rated M for a reason!  
Oh and... some of you may have guessed who this stranger really is. I'll give you a hint: he's actually one of my favourite characters from Life on Mars.  
(*ducks and covers in case anyone finds out*)  
**

* * *

"So, _John_ " the car's driver glanced at the shivering Doctor beside him "been to the city before?"  
The Doctor stared out of the window. The blurring visions of the flashing lights, of the streets, of the houses... He didn't even know where he was.  
The Doctor shook his head.

He hadn't even been listening.  
Something was wrong. He could feel it.  
He wasn't supposed to be here. Not now.  
And coldness was spreading; it was flowing through his veins, freezing his muscles, his fingers turning slowly numb.  
He shuddered and closed his eyes.  
It just wouldn't stop...

"Been too long out in the cold, have ya?"  
The Doctor lifted his gaze, his fingers touching the soft brown leather of the coat the stranger had just covered him with.

"Thanks" he mumbled weary, burying his face in the fur collar.  
"Can't have you freezing in here" retorted the stranger indifferently; something about his impassive talkativeness worried the Doctor.

They drove quietly.  
Though the Doctor had trouble keeping his eyes open, his subconscious warned him to fall asleep while still being in his current company, evoking most dreadful thoughts...

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked, surprised by the word's familiarity. He must have said that a hundred times before at least. So he'd been a sociable person, right? He must have been.

"Does it matter?"  
Out of the corner of his eyes the Doctor regarded his companion thoughtfully.  
His impassive and stern expression sent chills down the Doctor's spine.  
The stranger wasn't displeased; he didn't appear to be in any way angry.  
He was just... erratic. And the Doctor didn't know how to deal with that.

The obscenely flashing lights had faded away; a deserted car park came into view.  
To the Doctor's horror the car was pulled over and decelerated as they drove over the forlorn tarmac.  
The Doctor dug his nails into his thigh, the shiver intensifying while a sudden sensation of nausea assailed him.  
They had stopped.

The car's headlights remained switched on even when the driver turned off the motor.  
A hand caressed his cold knee.

"Yeah. That'll do."  
The Doctor held his breath, his face turned aside. It wasn't just the words that worried him.  
There was something uninhibited in his voice. Something wild and fierce; something pushing and pushing until it reached its limits.  
And then probably push some more.  
The Doctor shuddered.

With his eyes shut he felt the stranger's hair stroking delicately against his cheek as he leaned closer, his lips tickling his ear.  
"You can call me Tony" whispered the stranger softly "and now relax..."

And by that he'd already unzipped the Doctor's trousers.

* * *

Gwen fumbled with the quiet TRR nervously. The black SUV dashed through the arising fog, going so fast that it literally cut through the grey cloud of nightly mist. Jack was still speeding, notwithstanding the fact that they had no destination at all.

Gwen stared worriedly at the bypassing scenery, alarmed by Jack's motionless face and horrific driving style. And he hasn't even talked to their fruitless search in the streets...

They ran another red light. Gwen dug her nails into her seat and held her breath as Jack averted a front crash by executing an emergency braking. The wheels lost grip on the slippery street and the car skidded into a nearby alley before it finally came to a halt.

"Jack", Gwen breathed in deeply, while being stressed out and terrified she was finally able to speak her mind, "we need to talk."  
Jack took a deep breath before pummelling the steering wheel.  
"Jack you need to calm down" Gwen went on, her face returning to its usual attentively stern expression, and whispered under her breath "You nearly had us both killed."

"Gwen, we need to find the Doctor" Jack said earnestly, with straightforward single-mindedness that never failed to annoy Gwen "He's somewhere out there, all alone, frightened and completely lost."  
"Why are you making such a fuss about it?" asked Gwen "You needn't worry that much, Jack. He is always on his own; that's the Doctor for you."  
"Yeah, but he doesn't know that" Jack barked, barely able to blink back the tears in his eyes.  
Gwen frowned.  
Jack retrieved a small fob watch from his coat.  
"It's this... thing Time Lords manage during times of imminent danger or whatever. The Doctor must have explained it a hundred times to me and I still can't remember it..."  
He held the watch at eye level, staring at the Gallifreyan writings as if in dire need for an answer.  
Then Jack met Gwen's puzzled gaze.  
"This _is_ the Doctor."

Gwen stared at it incredulously.  
"A fob watch?" she asked taken aback.  
"He's _in_ the fob watch." Jack explained crestfallen and pushed the small button on the top; there was a click and the fob watch snapped open. "It's his mind."

Gwen stared with fascination into the beguilingly glistening golden lights that streamed out, the quiet noise of cog wheels turning inside, whispered conversations of voices older than the dawn of creation, and the sounds of time spreading out and flying by. Sparks blazed past here, flakes of endless space, illuminated by the glittering lights of a million stars, floating into existence before melding with the air.

After a brief moment, in which Gwen felt like she'd dived into the universe and virtually drowned, the watch snapped shut, its glamour dispersing like light fog.

Gwen's gaze travelled upwards until she looked Jack into the eye.  
"It's his mind" Jack repeated, fondly caressing the engraved fob watch "it's stored in here, waiting for his return. Until then... there's no Doctor. No real Doctor."  
"So he's... he's like a shell, roaming about?" asked Gwen.  
"No, worse than that" said Jack, wretchedly,  
"It's like he knows that he's lost something and doesn't know what he's doing."

* * *

"So, that's the deal," the stranger, now known as Tony, concluded whilst staring at the Doctor in anticipation of his next move; his cheeky tongue moved over his thin lips excitedly.

The Doctor blinked wearily.  
The sleeplessness was consuming him, he could hardly stay awake any longer and stared dejectedly at the freezing cold outside.  
Did he even have a choice? Was it his to be made?  
It was warm in the car and sheltered, no doubt about it, but there was something in here, something that worried him... something his subconscious had detected at the moment he'd entered the car and was therefore now screaming at him furiously.  
 _Something..._  
His feeble limbs moved of their own accord and sank into the seat; The Doctor closed his eyes, leaned back and relaxed in a way Tony could only construe as devotedly.

The Doctor's eyes remained shut; he breathed unsteadily, nervousness spreading as the driver's side's door opened and closed, the quiet noise of footsteps, the door beside him opening and letting out the warm, albeit frowsty air, the cold spreading, the skinny yet well-built body forcing itself between his legs. The door was slammed shut noisily, the unpleasant echo still lingering in the embarrassed silence.

His tingling skin covered with kisses, his neck caressed by that sneaky little tongue, a shrewd mouth whispering unfulfilled desires, twisted lust, making tongue-in-cheek compliments, chuckling, kissing his ear, titillating his neck... grunting... moaning...

The Doctor's eyes snapped open.  
He was lying underneath Tony, chest against chest, his body dominated and conquered.  
Tony's hands were occupied with trying to rid the Doctor off his bothersome clothes, exposing bare skin devoid of the Doctor's resistance.  
They Doctor lay underneath him, whether he was asleep or awake didn't matter at this point, regarding the events melancholically.

His legs, resting on the dashboard and parted for Tony, were forced even more apart, his rear end raised slightly; he felt the thrusts, bare skin against clothes, vigorously and unbridled, until bare skin clashed against bare skin.  
There was the moaning again, more demanding this time; hips were palpated, grabbed, pulled closer and unashamedly bestridden.  
The heat upon the Doctor's body became unbearable, the warmth being not cosy but disgusting.  
He grasped the other's torso, held on to it, not looking up into his eyes, those cold, soulless and terrifying eyes.

The Doctor's body was forcefully entered, exploited and abused.  
The panting and moaning intensified, the Doctor rocking back and forth in accord with the body on top of him, the air thickening, getting hotter and moist, smelling... stinking...  
... _the stench of despair_...

The Doctor blinked.  
The sudden silence had aroused his overworked mind's anxiety, jolting him back into alertness.  
The pressing feeling on his chest was gone, yet his back hurt as he tried to sit up. And there was this strange warmness... throughout his body...  
He lowered his legs back onto the ground and, pulling up his clothes, he coughed breathlessly.  
The air was still disgustingly hot and muggy.  
The Doctor leaned back into the soft leather seat, his head rolling to his side. A smouldering little red dot moved around in the dark, not too far from the car. Enjoying a smoke.  
 _Tony..._

The Doctor's mind was on edge, no, it was close to the edge of shattering and breaking apart.

Unable to think straight anymore the Doctor sat up;  
He stared at the twenty quid lying beside him on the driver's seat, incapable of feeling neither dismay nor grief nor anger; he just pocketed the money.

Then the Doctor fell back, the last of the remaining energy draining away and found himself unable to resist the terrible urge to sleep any longer;  
His eyes shut of their own accord as he slipped into the enclosing nothingness, far away into the arms of Morpheus.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who are following this story! You're awesome! And feel free to leave a comment!**  
 **Poor Doctor; but at least the worst is over. For now...**

* * *

His face barely visible behind a large serving of fish and chips the Doctor strode through the crowded streets.  
Well, at least the sun was up again (and definitely most of the people living in London, judging by the infinite number of shoppers on the street) and therefore the Doctor was feeling a lot safer.  
Last night he hadn't only learned that he was scared of the dark, but that freezing to death may be romantic and valorous and all while it still left you dead in the morning.  
A strange (and possibly disturbing) night with a desperate stranger, however, had left him with an aching back and twenty quid.  
Though, and the Doctor was dead serious about it, he'd definitely give the romantic death a second thought.  
Next time.

Gobbling up some of the delicious, fat oozing food the Doctor failed to notice the hunched figure sitting on the pavement in front of him, nearly stumbling over it.  
Accidently prodding it with one foot it grumbled "Spare some change, bugg'rit? All rag and bones."

The Doctor looked down, recognizing the old codger's face.  
"You?" he asked the world in general, before turning around irritated. He wasn't quite sure where he was but he definitely knew that so-called Tony last night had cruised around the city and he could have sworn that he was now cross-town. And that old homeless man didn't look too athletic.

"How did you get here?" the Doctor asked, suspecting that possibly every question posed at him would become a rhetorical question anyway.  
Thus he wasn't too surprised that the codger owed him an explanation; because he realized that his conversation partner was too distracted right now by the dish in the Doctor's hands that could give you hypercholesterolemia just by staring long enough at it.

Looking around wonderingly the Doctor sat down beside him on a door step and sighed.  
"We'll share it, alright?" he said eventually, handing his greasy lunch to his quite astounded companion.  
"You can eat half of it."

The Doctor sighed mournfully while staring glumly at the grey streets.  
If only there was some kind of weather; like raininess, or snow, for a change; or just sun, a plain, boring and bright sun. Fog, on the other hand, wasn't weather; it was a pest.

One hand on his chin the Doctor stared into space; no matter what he tried his mind would end up trying to unravel last night's incident.  
Thinking about it made him feel uncomfortable, though he didn't even know what it had been that had scared him that much. It hadn't been the things he'd done with him, the Doctor was sure, and they didn't make him feel hurt or humiliated.  
It must have been in the air... Something in the thick and frowsty air inside of the car.  
...the stink of sweat and submissiveness...

The Doctor shook his head as if trying to dislodge the terrible memories.  
Hardly noticing the furiously ravening old beggar beside him he arose, mumbling "You can keep the rest" half-heartedly as he set off unsteadily, sickened by his own thoughts.

The old codger hadn't noticed the Doctor's absence until he'd finished his meal.  
Slightly irritated by the nice man's sudden disappearance he looked the street up and down before pocketing the cardboard plate absentminded by letting it disappear into his ragged sack. With unexpected agility he pulled himself upright, a wobbly movement though but still quite impressive since it demonstrated his strength. Then, as if under a spell, he ambled down the path until it would follow up a narrow street. He wobbled along the small alley and, without looking around, stepped into the engulfing shadows.

* * *

"I remember now."  
Jack walked glumly alongside Gwen; Gwen was surprised to finally hear him speaking at all after a quiet and stressed forenoon.

They had started their search on the same spot where, the night before, the TRR had detected the last traces of alien presence.  
Against Gwen's hopes they had found nothing, nothing at all that would bring them any closer to the Doctor.  
He'd just vanished.

"What is it, Jack?" Gwen asked cautiously. Jack was having one hell of a time; he hadn't talked since he'd woken up. And the constant sad, worn-out look on his face was starting to worry her.  
Jack fumbled in his pockets, producing the filigree fob watch; he touched it, softly, stroking it as if the surface hadn't been of cold metal but the Doctor's alabaster skin.  
"It's called a Chameleon Arch" Jack said softly while fondling the watch "Time Lord technology. Somewhat related to the Chameleon Circuit of his ship to which it owes its ridiculous 60's police box look. It can change your appearance. Underneath he's still a Time Lord... of some sort..."

Jack opened the watch again to hear the strangely beguiling noises, the trickle of time, the ticking of a million watches as they separate second from second, the whispered sounds of infinity...

The fob watch snapped shut on its own accord.

Jack drew a deep breath.  
He pulled the TRR out of his coat pocket while making some minor adjustments.  
"If we change the frequency converter and adjust it to the reset ground signal of the time distortions the Doctor's altered appearance caused, we might have a chance of finding him" Jack explained to the astounded Gwen "Oh, and I've recharged the batteries, just in case."

"I never knew you were an expert in alien medical physics" mumbled Gwen, quite taken aback.  
"Neither did I" mused Jack before patting his pocket again. "Must be the fact that I'm currently the conveyer of concentrated Time Lord wisdom. Some of it might rub off, who knows?"

And there he was again, Gwen thought: Captain Jack Harkness, how we know and love him. Whenever he's thinking about the Doctor he... well, he smiles, but not his usual charming smile. It's more than that; somewhat deeper... something that goes without saying...

But right now Gwen was enjoying the company of the usual Jack.  
"Since it has rubbed off on you, would you like me to know against which part of your anatomy you rubbed it?" she asked teasingly, catching Jack's glare. She was surprised to find him laughing.

It came even more of a surprise when the TRR gave a perturbed 'bleep'.  
"Is that him?" Gwen asked hurriedly.  
"No" Jack replied a bit downcast after getting his hopes up "but it's definitely alien. And somewhere close..."

Gwen observed the street closely. Passers-by didn't appear in any way startled or disconcerted. No screams in far off alleys, no confusion or panic.  
"But that's not possible" mumbled Jack as he follow the weak signal, which led down the street "It must be... big. A giant force... and so close that it's..."

Jack stopped perplexed in front of the strong energy's source; the codger, who cowered on the pavement in front of him, stared back with the same blank expression.

"That's an alien?" Jack mumbled irritated while looking at the TRR's readings.  
Gwen joined his side, staring at the old man.  
"Are you sure this thing is working, Jack?" Gwen asked.  
The old codger waggled his eyebrows at her in a way which she could only describe as old fashioned-suggestively: "Hubba hubba."

"Gwen what do you think, was that an alien language?" Jack asked half-heartedly as he scanned the homeless man as a precaution.  
"I don't know" Gwen replied while squatting down in front of him "but either way it was definitely rude."  
Then she took a closer look. And frowned.

"Jack, did you see that book?" she asked while reaching for a silvery grey spine. She was able to retrieve it before the fat codger could snatch it from her hands.  
"It's a calendar... of some sort" she mumbled while flicking through the pages "And will you look at this..."

Gwen closed the book.  
Jack's expression froze as he stared at the circles on the cover.

"That's Gallifreyan writing. That's a Gallifreyan book!"  
He exchanged glances with Gwen.  
"I think this geezer here owes us an explanation..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! :D  
This chapter holds a (ridiculous) reference towards a typical doctorly item.**

* * *

Gwen skipped through folders, casting a weary glance at the monitor occasionally. Her attention was miraculously drawn towards the black and white pictures of the surveillance camera.  
With a stern look Jack was hacking at his keyboard.

"And?" asked after a while.  
"Nothing" replied Gwen, removing the teabag from her cup "He just sits there and grumbles."  
Taking her eyes off their monitored prisoner she turned to Jack "And if he isn't an alien?"

"He is, he must be" snarled Jack through gritted teeth "The readings are all wrong. I couldn't even examine him properly. The scan for alien technology gave up upon him and he refused to be taken to another room. You wouldn't imagine that there are such things as muscles under all that fat. But he's as strong as an ox. I bet if he wanted to he could just punch his way through the walls. After all it's just a hotel room."  
"Ianto is on his way" Gwen added, trying to convince both Jack and herself that she wasn't completely useless right now "as soon as he gets here we can take him to Cardiff."  
Jack nodded, still staring at the monitor "All he does is sitting there. I wonder what he's thinking..."

Gwen let that sink in.  
"And the book?" she asked while raising her cup to her lips.  
"I could have sworn that it was Gallifreyan writing" mumbled Jack "but according to a recent TRR scan I was getting my hopes up prematurely."  
"Then what is it?" Gwen went on.  
"Well, according to the TRR it's of unknown origin, which doesn't help us at all. It can't be identified."  
"Did you let him keep it?" asked Gwen, drawing nearer.  
"Yeah" Jack pushed back from the desk and leaned back in his seat "he seemed rather attached to it. And it's a definitely not a weapon, not a threat at all. It's just a book with perforated pages."

He turned to face Gwen.  
"You better give Ianto a call" Jack explained "tell him to prospect for any signs of the Doctor on his way here."  
Gwen left the room, hardly able to take her eyes off the screen.  
Jack watched the hunched figure for a while before centring his attention on the laptop again.

Had he bothered to glance at the monitor one more time then he'd have noted that the old codger had opened his book to take a look at the first page.  
Eventually he tore it from the book and ate it.

* * *

Growing tired of fighting against his sleepiness the Doctor had tried dozing on a park bench by day. But it was no use.  
At night it was the cryptic feelings and paranoid fears and right now it was the broad daylight that robbed him off his sleep.  
Growling under his breath the Doctor straightened up. His head hurt and his back was killing him.  
He'd suspected before that he'd been a sociable person; concerning his constant urge to find a conversation partner he may have been understating things a bit.

The Doctor scratched his head as he trotted through what looked like residential suburb.  
Had he always been so talkative? He must have been in dire need of a permanent companion, someone who'd accompany him everywhere...

Or maybe he'd been married?  
But you couldn't forget things like this, could you?  
He shook his head, completely absorbed in thought. No. You couldn't. And he didn't even have a ring. Or a name. Or any kind of memory.  
So, the desperately romantic part of his brain ventured, it has possibly been a liaison only.  
The Doctor sighed again, hands deeply buried in his coat pockets.  
The breath-clouds forming in front of his face were starting to annoy him. And it was getting colder every day...

"What a lovely coat."  
The Doctor stopped, turning his head around.  
Advancing through her garden an old lady approached him, carrying an old and battered teapot.  
As she smiled the wrinkles around her mouth resolved, hinting that beneath the wintery surface of old age beauty once used to prevail.

The Doctor retorted a smile. "Thanks."

"Me old George used to have one just like the one you're wearing" she added, indicating with a gesture that he should come nearer. The Doctor leaned against the fencing. "O' course" she went on with only a hint of grief found in her voice "those were the better days."  
Dumbstruck, as one usually finds themselves when talking to elderly persons, the Doctor said nothing.  
The old woman stared at his face dreamily before snapping back to reality.  
"Good heavens, where are me manners?" grumbled the old hag "Wandering about and babbling about young man's clothes. You must think I'm out of my mind."  
Again, the Doctor replied nothing.

With jittery fingers she caressed the old teapot in her hands, looking him up and down again.  
"Really, a nice coat" the old woman repeated, half to herself "albeit a bit cold." She then lifted her gaze. "It's chilly now, but it won't last. I'm telling you, it's the worst winter you've ever lived to see." She tapped the side of her nose. "I knows such things."

I've probably seen worse.  
For a moment a look of uncertainty crossed the Doctor's face. The thought must have dislodged itself from the deepest corner of his mind, he assumed.  
But why? Was it a memory? Was it a fractured fragment of his powers of recollection?  
Or, and that was another strong possibility, was it a cue that he hated wiseacres?  
Yes, a small part of his brain agreed with him, you hate them because you're one of them.

"You're a lovely young man" the hag's words managed to retrieved the Doctor from his dialectic thoughts. He searched her gaze; as the old woman winked the creases around her eyes moved to form a quite fascinating pattern,  
"Too bad...our Sharon is still a bit too young for a hook-up."

The Doctor smiled, either out of courtesy or embarrassment, but he smiled nonetheless.  
And even the old hag augmented a little giggle to her former statement; then she beckoned him in.

"It's just the thing for you, I thought" the old woman rummaged through a sack stuffed with clothes.  
As the Doctor's gaze travelled over the neatly arranged furniture, the antique vases and candleholder, the dapper drapes and tea-clothes, he wondered whether or not this was just the woman's garage or her living room.  
If it wasn't for the cold...

"Here...I made it for me youngest grandson. He'd loved to wear it. I knows, the colours are a bit dated, but it's good old fancy work, that is. It's a beauty, that scarf. And since you look like an icicle already, thought I'd give it to you."  
She handed the Doctor an old woollen scarf, quite long (and heavier than expected).  
He slung it round his shoulders, the confraternity of colours leaving strange afterimages.

The Doctor considered himself in an old tarnished silver platter.  
It was definitely affectionately knitted, the Doctor had to admit, and though outdated the murky yellow and beige and red and violet and cold blue stripes somehow managed to match up.  
All in all it was a good shawl (and had surely been considered beautiful back in the 70's) and it would definitely keep him warm.

The old hag flashed a smile and clapped her hands together.  
"It looks adorable! Just like my youngest. Too bad I haven't got his brown hat anymore, it really topped it off."

The Doctor regarded himself in the substitutional mirror before thanking the old lady and leaving her strange lodgings.  
His own reflection had puzzled him.  
The scarf looked right. Only the face didn't match it.


	8. Chapter 8

The old codger scratched himself rather shamelessly while dozing on the floor.  
He didn't like it in here. True, it was warmer than outside but he hadn't grasped the purpose of him being here.  
Also, he was feeling quite peckish.  
Silently he opened the book he'd placed in his lap. He tore off another page.  
With tired, world-weary eyes he stared at the small window near the ceiling.  
Then he stuffed the paper in his mouth, chewing languidly.

* * *

"What do you mean 'the rift is shut down'?"

Jack stared at Ianto incredulously while Gwen's mouth had dropped open.  
"It's gone. No scar, no activity whatsoever. Just nothing" said Ianto, visibly shrinking under Jack's stern glare.  
"But…how is that even possible?" Jack asked disbelievingly "Did you check?"  
"No activity whatsoever" Ianto repeated, clutching at the precast phrase.  
"And the Doctor left no message? Just nothing?" Jack snapped.  
"Sorry sir?"

With a groan Jack collapsed into his chair, increasing bitterness radiating from his face.  
"First the Doctor's gone and then this…" Jack mumbled before placing a hand over his chin.  
Ianto looked back and forth between Jack and Gwen, evaluating the situation.  
"Do you mean 'gone' as in… gone?" he ventured.

"He's not the Doctor, apparently" Gwen tried to explain before Jack could snap at Ianto.  
Then her gaze travelled upwards with her eyes widening in horror;  
Jack groaned while breathing out.

"Jack" Gwen said carefully before swallowing "You won't like that." She turned to face a weary Jack with his elbows resting on the table, looking askance.  
"What could possibly be worse than a Doctor who doesn't know who he is and an inexhaustible source of energy suddenly ceasing to exist?" he asked grudgingly.

Gwen pointed towards the flickering monitor.  
"Our prisoner's gone."

* * *

The shawl had been an unexpected treat, the Doctor had to admit, and was more than comforting. Odd or not, the old lady had been right; it was getting colder every day. The Doctor couldn't remember colder days in early December.  
Lifting them from the little comfort his pocket had given the Doctor rubbed his icy hands.  
Sighing quietly, and being annoyed by the cloud of breath forming in front of his face, he thrust his hands back into his pockets before strolling along the busy sidewalks.

He was flat broke again. He didn't even know how he'd managed it, he hadn't had much money but he had asserted that it was all gone now.  
He buried his face up to his nose in his scarf and shivered.  
And the chilly breeze was growing stronger every day now...

The Doctor looked desperately along the street.  
Just somewhere where it wasn't this cold; somewhere where he could rest. Just for a few hours... just _sleep_...

"Hey, what are you doing here? Is there going to be an invasion? Oi, over here!"

The Doctor turned around at the strange calls in astonishment; an old man with a red woolly hat was waving at him frantically. He appeared to be rather pleased to see him, as the Doctor noted to himself; in other words: he was ridiculously joyful.

"Sorry" the Doctor tried to bring himself to a smile but failed miserably; he looked around worryingly before focussing a little uncertain on his conversation partner,  
"Do I know you?"  
The old man seemed to be taken aback for a moment; then his smile broadened again and he tapped his nose in a knowing way.  
"Well, you don't know me the same as you don't know my granddaughter, if that's what you mean" he said in a naturally cheerful voice, "She's fine, by the way."  
The Doctor nodded, either out of nervousness or desperation.  
"But I hadn't expected you until Christmas" the old man went on, his aged eyes glimmering with excitement "so I thought, you better go ask the Doctor if there's anything to worry about, like an impending catastrophe, or..."  
"How should I know about this?" the Doctor asked nervously.  
"Well, you usually do" retorted the old man.  
"I do?" the Doctor frowned.  
The old man nodded exuberantly "But since you've time for a little chat, I thought it can't be that serious, can it?"  
He chuckled cheerfully. The Doctor eyed him up thoughtfully.

"You know me?" he asked wonderingly after a while.  
"Of course I do" replied the old man reproachfully.  
"And you are...?" the Doctor went on, the look of puzzled irritation still lingering on his face; he scratched his head nervously.  
"Wilfred Mott" the old man replied instantly "You called me gramps as well. Just like my dear Donna."

Donna.

The Doctor blinked. The name had provoked something at the back of his head. It wasn't a memory, not exactly. It was more like... a feeling, of some sort.  
A... sparkling warmth?

The Doctor shook his head, realizing that he'd drowned out the man's prior words.  
"I said 'Do you remember now?'" Wilfred repeated politely.  
The Doctor stared at him with narrowing eyes; he had something about him, the Doctor felt it instantly. Disagreeing with Wilfred was like kicking a dead puppy. Or something.

He scratched his head again, nodding slightly while watching how the wrinkles around the old man's mouth disappeared. His happiness was somehow contagious.  
Wilfred grinned broadly as they set off together:  
"Can I buy you a cuppa?"

* * *

"He can't be gone, that's impossible" grumbled Jack. Gwen inspected the room critically.  
At least Jack had calmed down; but Gwen feared that it was just the calm before the storm.

"Not if he was an alien, Jack" Gwen replied while standing on her toes "I can't even reach the window from here, I'd have to climb, it's just too far."  
"He was an old, fat man" Jack went on, ignoring Gwen's contribution "He couldn't have escaped." He snapped his fingers.  
"Not like this."

"You better have a look at this."  
Jack grunted at Ianto's voice from the next room. Gwen backed away as a precaution.

"It's the CCTV, look at that Jack" Ianto moved aside as he caught a glimpse of the glint in Jack's eye.  
Gwen leaned over Jack's shoulder, staring fixed at the screen; her brow furrowed.

"How did he... he could he even jump that high... that's just..."

"Whatever he is he owes us an explanation" Jack said, giving his colleagues a stern look.  
"Ianto contact the others; they have to be on alert. We've to investigate an alien escape."  
Ianto nodded and turned on his heal.  
But the question he dreaded came nonetheless.

"Any news from the Doctor?"

Ianto took a deep breath and tried to keep a straight face; still he broke out in a sweat.

"We do what we can" he said stiffly.

Jack stuck out his chin and sighed while staring at the monitor, more than unsatisfied by the answer.  
An escaped alien.  
A Time Lord fob watch in a pawn shop.  
A Doctor, who vanished without a trace.

Just nothing that added up.

In front of him the screen replayed the same scene over and over again;  
A fat, old man leaping up almost vertically before disappearing through a far too narrow window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: So... the Doctor talks to Wilfred and takes things the wrong way...the really wrong way.**  
 **Also this chapter contains a (barely hidden) allusion to a fan fiction writer I really adore.**

* * *

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

The Doctor, his face half hidden behind a big mug (with definitely too jolly ornaments on it), shook his head.  
"Although I've always wondered about those French yeast cakes... you know those small things, pastry things, saturated in hard liquor... sometimes filled with cream..."  
Wilfred's brows knitted as he chewed this over: "Like a rum baba?"  
"Yeah, yeah, something like that" the Doctor replied while drumming his fingers on the table. Amazing what the brain remembers, he thought to himself. I don't even know my name but I keep babbling about pastries.

"What's them called?" he thought out loud; a name sprang to his mind.  
"Severinne?"  
The Doctor poked the inside of his cheeks before looking around in bewilderment.  
"What did I do that for?"

"You meant a savarin, didn't you?"  
The Doctor didn't reply, still wondering about his previous actions.  
Wilfred flashed him an astonished look. "It's not one of them alien things again, is it?" he said a bit uncertain. The Doctor shook his head while waving his hands frantically.  
"Forget what I just said."

The Doctor took another sip from his mug. He enjoyed the warmth of the small café much more than he probably should.  
Because he sensed trouble when he saw it; and right now it was staring him in the face, with a red woolly hat and a pair of old, translucent eyes.

"So..." the Doctor had lowered the mug to speak without a rather annoying echo reverberating; but he hesitated. It was just too embarrassing; he couldn't remember anything about a Wilfred Mott. And he was annoyed by the stranger's cheerful smile and knowing winks.  
Furthermore he hadn't learned yet under which circumstances he got to know him; and the Doctor still wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to find out.

Still, he couldn't help being curious (and wondered if he'd always been this nosy).

"So, Wilfred was it?" the Doctor said, warming his hands on the hot mug. He caught a glimpse of Wilfred's stare.  
"Sorry. I'll try again." He breathed in deeply, ruffling his hair unintentionally.  
"You said you know me."  
"Of course I know you" Wilfred replied immediately "You've been a friend for some years by now."  
"Good, good" the Doctor nodded "Then you... I mean... we did get along well, right?"

Wilfred nodded, though quite puzzled.  
The Doctor could have kicked his own shin for his reticence.

"Is this some kind of test?" Wilfred asked curiously.  
The Doctor stammered something incomprehensible into his tea mug.  
But Wilfred looked as though he finally got the point.

"Of course it's our little secret" he tapped his nose again in a knowing way "and we shouldn't speak openly about it. You never know who's listening."  
The Doctor let that sink in.  
"So, you'd say you know me... well?" he ventured.  
"A bit too well, I'd say" chuckled Wilfred "But that's all I'm saying, you know."  
"So, we're very...close?" the Doctor tried again.

Wilfred leaned back, still smiling. He failed to shed light on his question when he said:  
"Just look at you, Doctor. After all this time you're still full of surprises."  
"I'm a Dr?" the Doctor asked, wonder barely hidden in his voice.  
"I just know you as Doctor, that's all you ever told me" replied Wilfred reproachful "But it was good enough for me, you know, since you're such a marvellous being."

And there it was again. The wink.  
The Doctor didn't like where this was leading.  
He had had a suspicious feeling when walking into the café with Wilfred; the weird looks he was giving him, the knowing smile, the winking... the old man wasn't coming on to him, was he? Was he?

"Tell me this, will you" the Doctor said, concern resonating in his voice "Would you say that you know me in a way that you probably shouldn't? I mean, that you think that you know more about me than... than you're probably comfortable with?"

Wilfred stared at him, his mouth forming words over and over again while he was thinking.  
Eventually he reached a decision.

"It was never unpleasant for me" he said, his breast swelling with pride "actually I'd say you gave more pleasure to me in my dotage than I thought was possible. You made me feel young again. And even when I know that I mustn't say it: I'll never forget what we had together."

The Doctor breathed in deeply.  
Right. So that's what it was, wasn't it? With this... man... he'd...  
Did this mean he was... well, it couldn't, could it? He couldn't be a rent boy with no class. Come on! Not with this old... well, no...

"And don't you worry, I won't tell Donna" Wilfred added hastily "She's to know nothing of _it_. Mind you, if she was to know she might even get jealous. But who can blame her, eh? With a handsome man like you..."  
Wilfred chuckled again, his grin broadening.  
He slapped the Doctor on the knee which, had he known better, he'd never had done.

The Doctor tried to remain calm while he brought himself to smile.  
"Thanks for the cuppa" he said in what he thought of his level voice "But I really must go, you know... doing... stuff..."

He breathed in deeply after escaping Wilfred's company in the politest manner possible; he had hardly tripped over the door sill at all.  
And he was still shaking.

As he trotted along the busy streets he decided that he never wanted to find out who he was; because in fact he wasn't even sure if he could stand his current self.

* * *

Wilfred smiled, preoccupied in his own world.  
He never thought he'd get to meet the Doctor ever again, what with him being a time traveller and himself getting a bit long in the tooth. Or false teeth; or whatever.  
Though he had seemed strange, Wilfred had to admit. A bit... confused.  
And usually he was only around when one of them aliens was planning an attack. And it wasn't even Christmas yet...

"When did he leave?"  
"I told you, I don't know. I can't keep track on all of the customers."  
"Are you some kind of moron? He must have been in here."  
"Jack, calm down."  
"I am calm and he's an idiot."  
"If you want a good kicking I'll just call in my son-in-law. And now get the hell out of here!"  
"Sorry for trespassing on your time. You must forgive my colleague, he's not slept well. Come on Jack."

A young welsh lady passed Wilfred, one hand occupied with a bleeping device, the other one tugging at a tall man, dressed in a World War II coat.  
Unintentionally Wilfred saluted, mumbling "There's a good chap."

Jack turned to see the old man's determined expression. And the thing in Gwen's hand mad a buzzing noise.

"He's been here, with you?" Jack asked after a short explanation and sitting down. Wilfred nodded eagerly, catching a glimpse of Jack's concerned glare.  
"Is there something wrong with the Doctor?" Wilfred asked.  
"We're not sure" Gwen replied before Jack could open his mouth, giving Jack a penetrating glare "But there's no need to worry. He'll be fine."  
"If we find him" Jack mumbled while breathing out.  
" _When_ we find him" Gwen corrected.

"Oh, I'm sorry" Wilfred said "You just missed him. He left right before you came in."  
Jack met Gwen's gaze. The doorbell rang manically even before Wilfred had noticed their empty seats.

"Oi! And who's gonna pay for your cuppa?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Warning! Another M rated chapter ahead!**

* * *

The Doctor sighed and ruffled his hair. "Think, come on think", he whispered to himself.

The calm environment was comforting. Well, at least as much comforting as a public toilet could be.  
The Doctor was cold and he was desperate.  
But most of all he was tired. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep, not since the incident with the car…  
The Doctor shivered, thinking about it. No, there had to be another option. Just another... way.

One thing, though, puzzled him.  
He didn't remember spending all the money but somehow he had ended up broke again.  
Well at least he was at a relatively warm place right now and could plan his next steps.

His hands patted his pockets for his glasses automatically.  
Strange, he thought to himself, why do I think that I look better with them on?

Someone clearing his throat made him look up and face something pretty indecent.  
The throat's owner had invaded the Doctor's toilet cubicle with a body part that was hardening.  
The Doctor stared.  
"Hey" a breathy voice said, probably to avoid anyone other than the cubicle's occupant hearing it.  
Blushing, but completely immobile the Doctor stared at the… 'invader'.

"I know you're in there, so… Please, I…" The stranger sighed.  
The Doctor's mind froze. Surely he had noticed the little hole in the wall, but he hadn't known what to make of it. Caught in the situation he was unable to decide what to do next.

"I'll give you twenty quid for it."  
Nervous, due to the lack of replies from the other side the stranger added "Here, ten in advance, ten when it's done" and pushed a tenner past his stiffening cock.

The Doctor stared at the indecent offer for quite a while in silence.  
And reached a decision.

In one swift movement one hand grabbed the money while his other hand started stroking the 'invader' as he knelt down.  
Without thinking at all the Doctor palpated the warm pulsing flesh, eliciting suppressed moans from the other side. His fingers moistening with pre-cum he worked all the way up and down the stranger's stiff member.

"Please..." the stranger groaned hesitantly "please take it in your mouth... and I'll add another ten pound."

Hardly reluctantly but with closed eyes the Doctor let it slip into his mouth, making the stranger cry out ecstatically.  
His tongue toyed the sensitive flesh, sucking on the veins, making it wet and slippery. The stranger was becoming more and more impatient; at first he'd tried muffling his moans and screams, but he didn't bother anymore. The stranger groaned out loud shamelessly and cursed this act as well as the Doctor; the Doctor heard words he'd never heard before and yet he blushed inevitably.

The dripping pre-cum mixed with saliva tasted bitter.  
Eliciting unbridled cries of lust the stranger shoved his member deeper and deeper into the warm wetness that was the Doctor's mouth.  
"You..." he panted "You don't have to swallow, I..."

The Doctor jerked his head aside just in time to get only his cheek bedabbled with semen.  
Breathing heavily he watched the fluid staining the floor with disgust.  
With great presence of mind he grabbed the money he was handed by the stranger, who bade farewell with a weary "Thank you".

The Doctor just sat there for a while, looking back and forth between the money in his hands and the drying stains upon the floor.  
Then he cleaned his cheek, pocketed the money and ran out as his mind unfroze slowly.

The Doctor's mind was still clouded in a kind of loud fog, buzzing as if millions of tiny insects tried to sort through his thoughts.  
He felt... weird.  
Not particularly bad or ashamed. Just... weird.  
Though right now he tried focussing on the facts;  
He had thirty quid in his pocket and he was definitely going to need them.

Smacking his dry lips the Doctor wondered when he'd eaten the last time; or slept; or, to be more precise, slept without _fear_.

Exhaustedly he collapsed onto a park bench.  
It was a nice park actually, come to think about it. The Doctor daren't wonder what it must look like in spring here.  
Right now the grey hoar frost coated the branches softly; with the first snow falling and settling among the leafless twigs it looked quite peaceful.

The Doctor was lost deep in thought, pondering about whether or not he should try curling into a ball and trying to get some sleep in daytime when a young lady made the decision for him by occupying the empty place beside him with some shopping bags.  
The Doctor sighed and moved over wordlessly.

"Oi, I may be a bit heavy set but there's still enough room for me to squeeze in, sunshine. And don't look the other way, I'm talking to you!"  
The Doctor turned his head to face the brisk young lady that had just addressed him. It was her red hair that struck him instantly.

 _Donna..._

"Oi, what's wrong, sweetie, haven't seen a real ginger before?" she snapped instantly.  
The Doctor blinked, looking aside in embarrassment.  
Her voice... that snappy, straight-forward way of talking...

"Sorry" he mumbled quietly "nothing. It's just... nothing."  
"Move a bit, will you?" the young lady went on, ignoring his pondering remark.  
"I thought you said I shouldn't move" the Doctor said, his brows furrowing.  
"I said I could squeeze in, I didn't say it was comfortable" she retorted without giving it much thought. The Doctor regarded her thoughtfully as she rummaged through her handbag.

"What are you looking at?" she said even before completely raising her head, "And don't give me that look, I can't stand it, it's the same gramps always gives me when ma put him on a diet."  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." the Doctor began but got cut off again by her;  
"And don't apologize all the time, it's really getting on my nerves."

"Sorry" the Doctor mumbled; he barely noticed the lady rolling her eyes.

Once more silence reigned the park, only disturbed by the crisp sound of the snow.

The Doctor breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and taking in the cold air with the sharp smell, typical for this time of the year.  
"You look pathetic" the lady beside him mumbled. There was a rustling noise; and then:  
"Here. Take it."

The Doctor opened one eye and stared at a brown paper bag.  
"What's this?" he asked while blinking.  
"My lunch" the young lady replied coldly "and hurry up before the sandwiches freeze."  
Still, the Doctor didn't seem to understand.  
Annoyed by the Doctor's reluctance she shoved the bag into his hands; and shuddered.  
"Gosh, your hands are cold! No wonder, I mean just look at your clothes, it's not what I'd all winterproof. And your body's too skinny."  
The Doctor looked down upon himself "Sorry, it's the only body I've got."  
"Don't try that cheeky tone with me" the young lady snapped, her hands disappearing in her coat pockets for reasons of warmth.

The Doctor peeked at the bag's contents; then he sighed while flashing his bench companion a smile.

"Thanks, Donna."

The young lady beside him froze.  
And so did the Doctor.  
"How do you know my name...?" she mumbled while searching his gaze, inquisitively groping about for any insidious intentions; but the Doctor looked as shocked as she did.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Donna began again while pressing a hand against her temple; it felt... odd.  
She lifted her gaze to meet his hazel eyes  
"What did you just say?"

"Nothing... just nothing" the Doctor mumbled petrified; he arose.  
Donna didn't even hear him mumbling "Thanks" as he brushed past her;  
neither did she hear the snow crunching underneath his feet as he walked off.

Later on she decided what she'd felt back there had been nothing but a sick headache.  
She couldn't even remember the part where she had passed out as the snow had started melting beneath her boots.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Once again thanks for the reviews!**  
 **In this chapter Jack will come closer than ever but makes a fatal mistake...**

* * *

"Spare some change?"  
The old codger yawned and stretched, accidently knocking over a paper cup he'd used as a begging bowl. But it didn't matter anyway; so far no one had had any spare change.

Smacking his lips loudly he turned around; the streets were already alive and busy, window shoppers turning into costumers before they became impoverish costumers.  
But the world around the old man moved without him taking any notice of it.  
He couldn't see properly; to him the moving people were just shadows.  
Or maybe that was just the booze talking.

Still feeling dizzy the old man patted the torn pockets of his old coat, retrieving the book wonderingly. He tended to forget he had it with him. It was an old treasure to him, that was; only he couldn't remember what he treasured it for.  
Curiously he opened the first page. It was, as he guessed, not the original first page of the book, because it clearly said '10' in big ornate letters.  
There were no previous pages.

The old man sighed, staring at it with old and weary eyes.

After a few minutes he tore out the page.

* * *

"I said I'm fine."  
"You shouldn't spend all day out in the cold, gramps. Remember what the doctor said. Any more cold air and your lungs will collapse."  
"That's not what he said" Wilfred protested.  
"No talking back" Donna commanded "and now fasten your seat belt, I'm not gonna take you with me if you're unbelted."  
Angrily Donna stared at the traffic jam in front of her. She honked.  
"Oi, move! That's as green as it's going to get! What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"

"Calm down sweetheart" Wilfred said, trying to sooth her "We're not in a hurry."  
" _I am_ " snapped Donna.

Donna was still feeling a bit dizzy. All she wanted was to get home and have a lie down as soon as possible. And that terrible headache was coming back again.

As the dark vehicle in front of her still refused to move Donna wound down the window.  
"Oi! Move it!"  
Only now she noticed the handsome man standing beside her car.  
"Can I help you?" he asked gravely but with a voice you could fall in love with; Donna stared back at him, to her embarrassment, with flushing cheeks.  
"My car broke down" the handsome stranger replied, making it sound like a pick-up line.  
"Captain Jack Harkness" he added and extended a hand; Donna took it gingerly.  
"Donna Noble, single" she said before adding sheepishly "Oh, I'm sorry about your car...Maybe I can help?"  
"Don't trust her, mister, she'll only make it worse" Wilfred shouted after them.

Jack turned.  
"You?" he asked in bewilderment.  
"You?" retorted Wilfred resentful.  
"Gramps, do you know him?" Donna asked.  
"You met the Doctor" Jack snapped without giving it too much thought.  
Wilfred pointed an angry finger at Jack: "Don't run off with him, Donna. He made me pay for his cuppa!"

"Alright, you two" Donna raised her hands to head level "cut it out." Then she leaned closer to Jack and smiled. "Is this a phone ringing in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"  
"Actually" Jack replied while pulling out the TRR "it's neither."  
He stared at Wilfred.  
"She's been in contact with the Doctor."  
Wilfred waved his hands frantically "Don't say it."  
"What?" both Donna and Jack asked.  
"Just don't say it" Wilfred said hastily.  
"Doctor?" Jack concluded.  
"What doctor?" Donna asked.  
"No, it's 'Doctor', with a capital D" Jack explained "like a personal name."

"Alright" Donna said, waving her hands again "What is this all about?"  
"It's about the Doctor" Jack said.  
"You shouldn't talk to her about it" Wilfred replied earnestly "I mean it. You don't know what will happen to her, if you mention the Doctor."  
"What doctor? What are you talking about gramps?"  
Wilfred sighed, staring at Jack intently.  
"He's talking about the Doctor I'm looking for."  
"Then go make an appointment, sweetheart" Donna chuckled.  
"I have o find him first" Jack added, mild annoyance resonating in his voice. "And your grandfather knows him," he took another look at the TRR "and you must have met him too."

"No, I haven't" Donna replied instantly "I was at work. And then I went into the park, sharing my lunch with an anorexic homeless, yes, you don't have to thank me at all I too get into a charity mood around Christmas."  
"What kind of anorexic homeless?" Jack asked curiously.  
"I don't know..." Donna began as her head protested at trying to picture the man again; she was beginning to feel dizzy. "He just looked... average... apart from the hair, of course... and those dark hazel eyes..." she waved the dizziness away "Well, he must still be near the park, just go and see for yourself."  
Donna couldn't do as much as blink before Jack and Gwen had brushed past them.

"Are you feeling alright sweetheart?" Wilfred asked, worry resonating in his voice.  
"Yeah" Donna replied, taking her fingertips from her throbbing temples and staring at them as if she'd never seen them before in her life,  
"Just a bit weird." Donna smiled at Wilfred knowingly "Maybe I should see this doctor you keep talking about all the time."

* * *

They had split up. Gwen was checking near the westward exit while Jack had chosen the main entrance, his eyes scanning the meagre vegetation nervously.  
They hadn't been this close. And the Doctor couldn't have come far. He had to be here. He had to!

Gravel crunched under his feet as he rushed forwards.  
And his heart sagged with relief as he caught a glimpse of the well-known brown coat.  
"Doctor!"

The Doctor turned, instinctively backing away at the sight of someone running towards him.  
"Doctor!" Jack yelled, embracing the Doctor in an ebullient way and squeezing the last bit of breath out of his lungs "I've found you."  
The Doctor nodded, first of all because this was nothing he could disagree with and most of all because he was scared.  
"Doctor I've found your watch, you hadn't picked it up in time so I thought I…" Jack began while finally releasing the Doctor and patting his own breast pocket. He ceased babbling as he noticed the watch shaped hole in the pocket.

The Doctor stared at him a bit concerned.  
"It's alright" Jack tried to explain "Gwen has it."  
The Doctor frowned at him.  
Jack tried to smile, taking a step towards him.  
"It's alright Doctor. It's me, Jack."

The Doctor took a step back, still frowning.  
"Sorry" he said and didn't mean it "do I know you?"

Jack felt the stabbing pain in his chest; of course he _had known_ that the Doctor's memories had been erased due to the Chameleon Arch. But nonetheless… he didn't _know_. He didn't remember him.  
Anger and hurt bubbled up inside of him, agitating one another until Jack felt nothing more than the white-hot fury burning inside.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked, completely lost by now "and why do you call me 'doctor'? Doctor who?"

Jack stared at him downcast and infuriated at the same time.  
He opened his mouth and shut it again.  
He clenched his fists, wincing at his nails digging into his own skin.

Then came the barrage.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Thanks for the review! YOu're very supportive :D**  
 **This chapter is named after the Phantom of the Paradise song 'Old Souls' by Paul Williams. I think it really captures the situation between the Doctor and his long-lost ' _friend'. So, yes he's back..._**

* * *

"Watch out, you moron."  
The Doctor whispered another half-hearted apology as he pushed past the masses of people who crowded the busy streets.  
His head was buzzing; no, worse yet: it was throbbing, his brain was in a constant pulsating movement, chafing against his skull and scraping over his worn-out nerves.  
Or at least it felt like it.

The Doctor had panicked.  
Jack, or whatever the stranger's name had been, had scared him.  
And he'd talked and talked and yelled at him. And he hadn't stopped.

The Doctor winced as he stumbled onwards, fleeing from the obviously mad man.  
And still he could see Jack somewhere in the crowd, half-hidden behind the ocean of faces, bobbing to the surface as he rushed after him.

Out of breath and exhausted the Doctor collapsed against a wall, pressing himself flat against a barred door.  
If only he could fool him for a few minutes... no, he told himself, seconds would be enough until he'd lost him.

The Doctor drew a deep breath, the cold air stinging in his lungs.  
He curled up into a ball, quietly whimpering as the pain returned to his frozen limbs.  
And his head was more migraine than skull.

After what felt like hours the Doctor dared to pull himself up again, his strained muscles protesting and jerking with every movement.  
No one beside him in the alley he'd stumbled into.  
No one was there.

Cautiously the Doctor half limped half crawled back into the main street.  
The flood had receded – the streets had emptied. The people had ended up seeking the warmth of the surrounding shops, there was laughter from cafés, obscenely blinking Christmas decoration and the one compulsory crying child.

And over it all the thick velvet blanket of silence settled in, slowly drowning out the sounds from the busy shoppers.

More scared than ever before, lost, hungry and desperate the Doctor sagged to his knees staring at the world around him wide eyed, as if he'd never seen it before.

The first tears ran down his cheeks silently before he dared to sob.

Jack.  
Whoever this Jack was he never wanted to see him ever again.  
And he'd talked and talked and...

 _"_ _You're an alien, don't you remember? Come on Doctor, you can't have forgotten that much. You must remember it. You're the Doctor. And I'm Jack, Captain Jack Harkness. You rescued me from Channel 5, remember? All those Daleks..."_

"Daleks" whispered the Doctor slowly, experiencing a stabbing pain in his vertebra.  
What was a 'Dalek'? Maybe some sort of disease?  
He'd said he was a doctor so he must have cured...

No. The Doctor winced at the increasing pain.  
This was all wrong.  
He knew no 'Jack' nor 'Dalek' or 'Torchwould' or whatever bloody names the stranger had used.  
But he knew that he was going to crack up.  
Sooner or later. But definitely crack up.  
And he couldn't stand the cold any longer.

 _"_ _You're always this cold because you're a Time Lord. Time Lord, Doctor! You're an alien with... let me feel your pulse, come on. No, don't be scared I don't want to hurt you just let me feel your pulse..."_

"No" the Doctor burst out, earning himself a wondering glare from the few passing shoppers.  
It scared him. And thinking about it only made it worse.

Coughing and still limping the Doctor advanced, dragging himself through the emptying streets.  
Someone must have kicked his shin as he'd shoved them aside in the crowd.

His painful journey ended as he spotted a porch while he stumbled over the cobbles.  
The Doctor smiled. A porch; one big enough to sit on, not one of those oversized first steps they built these days.

With a sigh of relief he sagged onto his seat, the cold stone stinging his skin.  
Thankfully the air smelled no longer of grease soaked food and punch but of snow and bitterness.  
His chin resting in his cupped hand the Doctor glared at the pitifully decorated streets, the flashing lights reflected by the clouds.

And he was glad that his view was soon blocked by a fancily dressed businessman.

"That's none of my business... listen... 'Dave', I don't care if your boss told you to phone me, it's not my responsibility... No, it's not and I'm not interested..."  
He let out a long drawn-out sigh while he leaned against a streetlight.  
"Listen... just listen, alright? I don't care who gave you my number or why my secretary didn't get rid of you herself, this ends right here, right now... And put me through to your boss immediately."

Another sigh escaped his lips as he straightened up again and adjusted his shawl.  
"It's funny, isn't it" he said as he turned around "how you keep looking and looking for things you've lost and when you've found them you realize" and with this he turned and stared the Doctor in the eye smilingly. "They've been staring you right in the face all the time."

The smile. It was a hypnotising smile and it seemed to reach out and demanded the Doctor's full attention. It was a beguiling smile.

"I'll call you back" the businessman said a bit quieter before tapping the back of his right ear with a gloved hand. The Doctor stared down. Dark red leather gloves.

"No greeting?" the man asked, still smiling warmly as he advanced towards the Doctor "Not even a formal 'Hello'? Or a simple 'Hi'?"

The Doctor frowned but had considerable difficulty to do so. There was something about this man that made him feel... well, like he was _someone_. The way he addressed him, the way he spoke... was it…familiar?

"Nothing? Oh well, you can hardly expect it, can you, I mean it's been ages since we've run into each other" and with a chuckle he added "centuries, I'd say."  
The Doctor didn't reply. He stood there, stock still, wide-eyed, both in awe and unsure.  
"Well, how is it going? I see you're travelling alone. Or is there someone I ought to know about?"

A quiet chuckle escaped the man's affectionate lips as he smiled.  
And the Doctor experienced an irresistible urge to retort that smile.  
"Sorry" he mumbled abashed and was surprised at the nervousness in his voice "Do I know you?"

The businessman laughed heartily and the Doctor felt obliged to join in. No, he told himself, he didn't feel forced into it, not at all. His laugh was intoxicating; contagious and heart-warming at the same time.

"No, seriously" the businessman calmed down a bit and inspected the Doctor closely. His dark amber eyes skimmed over his body, burning across his skin.  
"You _are_ serious" he added after due consideration "Oh, this is just fantastic, I mean… No, come on. You _can't_ be serious! We haven't seen one another for a few years and *poof* everything's forgotten and long gone? No, I don't think so. That's not the Doctor _I_ knew."

The Doctor was aware that he was blushing.  
Strange, he thought. He's not too different from the prior pursuer, this Jack guy. And still… well _he_ did seem familiar. It was something in the pricey dressed man's eyes that gave him comfort. Something old… something he knew by _heart_ …

His brain suddenly stepped in and reproduced the only sentence he'd managed so far during every conversation: "What's your name?"  
"Glad you asked" the businessman replied, his white teeth glistening in the street lamp's light "Herold Angel, Chief of Engineering Management of Archangel Corporation." He extended a gloved hand and reached for the Doctor's fingers firmly "Former proprietor of the Archangel Network, but since our shares crashed and we had to sell all of them Chief of Engineering Management will have to do."  
He laughed again lightly while he shook the Doctor's hand. The Doctor nodded attentively.  
The business man's smile seemed to become a few shades darker.  
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" he thought out loud.  
The Doctor was unable to reply as he lost himself in his eyes.  
Vaguely he remembered a picture of pre-historic insects preserved in their amber inclusion. The amber in the man's eyes must have entrapped fire.

"Gosh your fingers are cold" the expensively dressed man exclaimed appalled "they feel like icicles to me. And _I'm_ the one wearing gloves." Another hearty laugh. The Doctor's lips were too cold to be distorted into a smile.

"Say" the businessman produced a small fob watch from his breast pocket "I couldn't treat you to a cup of tea?" he eyed the Doctor up thoughtfully "Or dinner?"

The Doctor smacked his dry lips automatically and swallowed.  
The cold wore out his nerves and he was desperate for a hot meal.  
And somehow the stranger's straightforward smile was soothing. He didn't seem honest. But at least he didn't look like someone who'd beat around the bush.  
And it was getting dark again…

"Come on, that's what friends do, isn't it?" the fancily dressed man enticed him "You _have_ to say yes."  
The Doctor breathed in deeply; the sharpness in the cold air stung.  
He nodded.

"I knew it" his benefactor replied. He slung an arm around his shoulders before strutting beside him, guiding his steps purposefully towards the inner city "You couldn't resistant an offer from an old friend, Doctor."

The Doctor winced at the name. It had scared him when Jack had said it.  
"Is this my name?" the Doctor asked suspiciously "'Doctor'?"  
"I always called you Doctor" the businessman replied without missing a beat.  
"Since when?" the Doctor asked, uneasiness creeping over him like the one compulsory spider after you've removed three from your bedroom.  
"Since our times at the Academy" he replied bluntly.  
"Academy?" the Doctor asked as his forehead started throbbing again.  
"The City of London Academy" the businessman went on after a pause "You really have lost your memory, have you?"

The Doctor stopped abruptly and stared at the pavement.  
"Look" he blurted out "I don't know who I am, who I were and what I'm doing here, alright? I'm just… I'm so scared because I don't know anything! I'm completely lost, I'm freezing and I don't even know why I'm telling you all this…"  
He felt the embarrassing hotness returning to his face.

The expensively dressed man stared at him thoughtfully, but still smiling.  
"Maybe you do remember a bit" he replied "because you know that you can trust me."  
The Doctor searched his gaze and found himself drawn towards the two flickering ambers.  
Eventually he nodded, slowly calming down.

"Good" the businessman added levelly as the Doctor drew another deep breath "and now we're going to warm you up."

They had wandered along emptying streets before the Doctor dared to address another question to his benefactor.  
"Did I call you names, too?"  
"I'm not calling you names" he replied with another hearty laugh "it's a term of endearment."  
"Well, did I have one of them for you in store?" the Doctor went on.  
The businessman shook his head as he chuckled: "You did."  
"Well?" the Doctor demanded.

His benefactor leaned closer his lips brushing against his ear as his spoke.  
"You called me 'Master'."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Yes, he's back! And thanks to all of you who reviewed, followed or commened this story :) you make me so proud!  
**

* * *

"Why?" the Doctor asked.  
The Master sipped at his glass delightfully, beads of red vine forming on his lips.  
"I mean just… why? Why would I call anyone my master?" the Doctor went on and scoffed another piece of his steak.  
"You just called me 'Master'" the Master replied amusedly "Not your master, just 'the Master'."  
"Yeah" the Doctor swallowed "but why?"  
"It's just another title" the Master shook his head "do you want some more?"  
"Are you going to eat that potato salad?" the Doctor asked with his mouth full.

The Master hardly rolled his eyes as the dish was pushed over to him.  
"Looks like you've been starving" the Master said conversationally after a while.  
" _I have_ " the Doctor replied between swallowing "and there's still meat on your dish, can I have that too?"

The Master leaned back in his seat, another vine bottle appearing on their table with just a mere look towards one of the waiters.  
"They seem to know you" the Doctor mumbled, coughing.  
"Indeed" the Master replied while smiling at the leaving waiter "And I'm sure they won't forget my company in a long time."  
"Sorry" the Doctor added and sat up straight again.  
"No, it's alright" the Master went on "it's a posh restaurant, after all. They don't care whether or not you have manners as long as you can pay the bill."

"So" the Doctor picked up the conversation after pushing back the empty plates "Who am I exactly?"  
"A pain in the ass" the Master replied and laughed warmly.  
"You're not much of help" the Doctor griped.  
"I apologize" the Master replied, flashing his white teeth "I couldn't resist."

He lifted his gaze, smiling warmly at the Doctor.  
"Anything else you want?"

* * *

"It is in fact a calendar" Ianto explained while he put down some more photographs on Jack's desk,  
"The writing is in fact similar to the circular Time Lord writing the Doctor showed us before. But it's definitely a lot cruder, more primitive I'd say." Ianto lifted his gaze.

"Where is Jack?"  
"I've lost him" Gwen replied "and when I rang him he told me that he needed a timeout. Strange, isn't it? He didn't even sleep past nights and now…"  
"Maybe he finally saw reason" Ianto ventured. They exchanged glances.  
"No, you're right" he revised his previous remark "Doesn't sound like Jack at all."

"In the meantime we'll work on our own" Gwen stated "It's what he'd want."  
She turned her attention back to the photographs.

"And you say it's not Gallifreyan?" Gwen asked and took another sip from her cup.  
"Definitely not" Ianto replied "It's… ancient. It contains traces of Mhechuan stardust, a galaxy on the other side of the universe. So it either travelled very far or, and that's the point, it's been here since the beginning of the universe itself. And if you look closely you'll notice that the small circles around the edges show specks of..."  
"Hold on" Gwen interrupted "Who made you an expert in advanced astronomy, how come you know about this?"

"I've had help in my inquiries" Ianto replied "and that's what I wanted to talk to Jack about."  
"Help?" Gwen asked "Who helped you?"

From the streets came the sound of squeaking breaks as lorry stopped in front of the hotel they were operating from.  
Both Gwen and Ianto looked out of the window.  
"I brought it with me" Ianto explained flatly "It's been in our subbasement."

"What is it?" Gwen asked as she hurried out of the door. Ianto had pushed open the container's doors. Then she stopped and stared open mouthed at the blue box in front of her.  
"It's been invisible" Ianto said as he instructed some workers to carry them upstairs "'till last week. Suddenly it turned up, in our subbasement. With this."

He handed Gwen a tattered piece of yellowing paper. Giant circles and dots had been scratched out in a poor attempt to eradicate them.  
And written above it read:  
'If not picked up by the 2nd of December please call Jack.'  
"And there's some smudged circles underneath it" Ianto pointed out "I guess it's his signature."

Gwen looked back and forth between the note and Ianto.  
"But why?" she mumbled unbelievingly "Why would he abandon his TARDIS?"

"He didn't."

Gwen and Ianto turned at the sound of Jack's voice behind them.  
"He wanted it to be safe" Jack went on as he joined their sides, patting the TARDIS lost in thought "He trusted us with his ship. And he knew that he could rely on us."  
Jack sighed as he drew a fingernail over the painted wood.

Gwen daren't ask what had happened to the Doctor; but Jack knew that an answer was expected of him anyway.

"I let him down" he explained in a low voice "I scared him and he ran off before I realized that I had his fob watch on me."  
Gwen and Ianto evaded his stern gaze.  
"But the good news is" Jack went on, a bit more cheerful "That I got a call from an informant that he'd been dining with a broker or something. So we know that he's safe for now. And he's going to support me with further information as soon as possible."

Ianto pulled out his laptop and hacked at the keyboard.  
"He mailed me something" Jack explained.  
"A photograph of a bill, their bill I assume" Ianto added "the Doctor's benefactor signed as..."  
Ianto swallowed. He hacked some more at the keyboard.  
"A Herold Angel, sir" he pointed out downcast "currently staying at the Egerton House Hotel."  
"Excellent" Jack replied.  
"But..." Ianto hesitated "Sir, he's... the homepage of his company... he's..."  
"What's wrong?" Gwen asked while she snatched the laptop off him. And she nearly let it drop.  
"Oh my God" she whispered; Jack held his breath as he took a look at the photo on the screen.

"Is that...?" Gwen began but got cut off by Jack,  
"It's him. I know it. _It's him_. I'll never forget the smile of that son of a bitch."

Oppressive silence filled the air around them; behind them the TARDIS was dragged over the stairs.

"Gwen, get your coat, Ianto you're coming with me" Jack snapped as he shoved the laptop back into Ianto's hands "We have to get there as soon as possible."

It took them more than a minute to unfreeze from their shock induced stillness.  
The next moment she could think clear Gwen found herself beside Ianto on the backseats of the black SUV.  
"Jack is... on his way" Ianto tried to explain "He said he better fetch some of his special equipment."  
"It's the Master" Gwen said mystified "it's the Master, he's here, he's back. Why is he back? I thought the Doctor had... well, I thought he was dead!"  
Her voice was swallowed up by the thick walls. Ianto owed her a reply.  
"How can the Master be back?" Gwen asked desperately "And what is he doing with the Doctor?"

Again Ianto remained silence.

"I hope Jack knows what he's doing" he said eventually.


	14. Chapter 14

"I hope you don't mind the mess on the couch" the Master said as he adjusted the piles of paper on a small writing desk "Just dropped in from another meeting, I didn't have time to tidy up. Mind you, I should employ someone to do it."

The Doctor hardly listened while he was sitting on the window sill.  
It was a nice hotel room. Well, nice was an understatement. Red velvet curtains framed antique double windows which, when open, gave way to a beautiful view of a nightly London. The furniture's cover was of thick material, soft to the touch and completely stainless. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the dignified room by electric candles.  
Even the floor looked expensive.

The Doctor snorted as he stared worriedly at the street. The window sill was wide enough to sit on and the Doctor cowered on it, half hidden behind the heavy curtains.

"But that's it, isn't it? Living in hotel rooms, travelling all over the world, selling the dream you've been working for all your life and I can't believe that you're actually listening because you haven't moved from that spot for half an hour, what's so interesting about the streets down there?"

The Doctor nodded absent minded. He dug his nails into his thighs as he continued staring down.  
"Doctor?" the Master asked.  
The Doctor lifted his gaze, humming quietly.  
"I asked what's so special about the street down there" the Master explained.  
The Doctor didn't reply but nodded automatically.

The Master rolled his eyes as he took off his tie and jacket. "You look pathetic" he went on "like a dog behind a terrace door, looking out into the rain."  
"It's snowing" the Doctor said; it wasn't a reply but declared to the world in general.  
"Good" the Master said quietly "which proves that you may be deaf but not blind."

He turned around. The Doctor was still staring intently, his fingers drumming a nervous beat on his knees.  
"And I thought you'd like it in here. I don't mind you staying with me, mind you, but I expected all of you to reside with me, not just a shell."

The Doctor frowned, slowly turning on his sill. "Shell?" he repeated wonderingly.  
"You know... just your body" the Master explained before placing both of his hands on his shoulders, locking eyes and drawing nearer, more than the Doctor was comfortable with.  
"What's wrong?" he asked earnestly.  
And to his shame the Doctor felt tears burning in his eyes.

He felt guilty for not letting the Master in on his problems; he had a way of getting into his head. As if he'd had access to his mind and his sensations. Whereas his memories...

"You're scared" the Master stated boldly. The small glimmer in his eyes roused; "Why?"  
Again the Doctor felt as if he could look right through him.  
"It's nothing..." he began meekly but stopped as he felt a pair of warm and surprisingly soft hands grasping his temples and massaging them tenderly.  
He looked up into the Master's eyes.  
"Just tell me" the Master whispered.

And the Doctor couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears.

* * *

"Push off, you can't sleep here!"  
The old codger got kicked in the stomach as the housekeeper stumbled over him.  
"I said push off" he yelled at him, this time kicking at him intentionally.  
But the old homeless man didn't seem too bothered by it, since the enormous amount of fat he called his stomach protected him rather well.

"Bugg'rit" he mumbled groggily and scrambled up. He brushed himself off (a rather pointless act) and ambled along the street aimlessly. Even though he felt dizzy the old man wasn't tired just a bit... disorganized.  
And without getting cold (thanks to nature's coat called 'obesity') he felt the chill of the night, the sharpness of fresh snow in the air and it made his bones tingle.

There was...snow. He looked up. It was snowing, beautiful flakes of ice crystals covering the empty streets.  
The old codger looked up into the sky and stared at the twinkling stars, quietly counting them under his breath.  
Then he patted his breast pocket (or, apparently, the hole were his breast pocket had long gone to meet the Big Tailor in the Sky) and retrieved the solid book he'd been carrying around with him.

He opened it, thumbing through the pages as old eyes scanned the curly writing, reading thoughtfully, trying to remember what he had to write down in order not to forget.  
He stared at the first page; the recent first page.  
There wasn't much written, just three circles and a few aimless dots.

While moving his lips he read out:  
"W...a...i...t..."

He stared at the page again. Then he ripped it out and stuffed it into his mouth.

* * *

"He says he'd been following me" the Doctor sobbed after a calming down. They sat on the couch, with the Master's arms wrapped around the Doctor's shoulders protectively.  
"And he says he was looking for me and that he knew me and when I didn't recognize him he shouted at me and tried to drag me away to his Touchwood institute or whatever it was."

The Master was taken aback and stopped caressing the Doctor's shoulders for a moment.  
"Torchwood? Did he mention Torchwood?" he asked wonderingly.  
The Doctor nodded hastily, tears still running down his cheeks.  
"He said he wanted to take me there. But I don't even know where Torchwood is. Is it on the mainland?"

"It's in Cardiff" the Master replied absent-minded before adding "Look, you don't have to worry about it, alright? He won't find you, I promise. I'll look after you."  
The Master wrapped his hands around the Doctor's before squeezing them tenderly. The Doctor lost himself in his beguiling amber eyes.

"That's better" the Master chuckled while smiling "So, what about a nice hot shower before we go to bed, eh?"  
The Doctor nodded enthusiastically and jumped to his feet.  
But he winced while there was a knocking without.

"Relax, it's just room service" the Master said soothingly before shoving the Doctor into the small bathroom "I'll be with you in a minute."  
"No, please" the Doctor whined "don't go. Please don't leave me alone."  
"Alright, calm down" the Master rolled his eyes before shouting towards the front door "Just go away, everything's fine."

"You _are_ a pain in the ass" the Master grumbled while he leaned backwards against the shower's sliding door.  
"I heard that" the Doctor replied from within.  
The Master smirked to himself. "At least some of your Time Lord senses are responding."  
"What?" the Doctor snapped instantly.  
"Nothing" the Master added "And hurry up or I'll come in."

There was a small pause, the silence between them only disturbed by the constant rinsing of water.  
"Actually" the Doctor hesitated "I don't mind."  
He couldn't even blink before the Master was standing next to him, in the nude and smiling exaltedly.

"It's strange..." the Doctor mumbled while he felt the Master's warm body closer and closer, the hot water gushing over both of them "I remember taking a shower with you. Well, taking a shower with a lot of other... students."  
The Master smirked. "Your memories from our time at the Academy must be coming back."  
"Something like that, yes" the Doctor agreed.  
"See?" the Master said "I protect you. I will always protect you." He patted the Doctor's shoulders before nuzzling his neck "I'll keep you safe."

The Doctor huddled against the Master, sighing quietly.  
"Even from Jack?" he asked in a low voice.  
"Jack?" the Master repeated.  
The Doctor nodded.

The Master's grin widened.  
"Oh, I'll keep you safe from him" he promised "he'll regret having crossed your path."


	15. Chapter 15

On a large and comfy leather chair the Doctor sat in another hotel's foyer. Curled up into a ball, with his chin resting on his right shoulder, he stared at the scruffy carpet, his eyes following the lines and patterns that were drawn by other people's shoes.  
He was comfortable since he felt that no one was watching him. He didn't like to be pushed into the spotlight. Being left alone was all he wanted after the rough weeks he'd had.

He sighed, readjusting his position.  
Herold Angel had a meeting; the Doctor growled quietly as he patted the chair's soft covering.  
He'd been sure that he could trust Herold. He felt familiar, disturbingly familiar.  
And he'd enjoyed sleeping in a bed for a difference.  
But in the morning...

The Doctor shifted in his chair.  
Something scared him. He'd felt fear, by God he _had_ during the past days, but this fear was different.  
Herold cared for him. He knew that he did; he _felt_ it. But he seemed to do so... differently.  
Different from other people.

It was the way he looked at him that scared him.  
Probably for Herold it was 'in a loving way'. But the Doctor knew that there was more to that.  
He'd seen the world with Herold eyes; he didn't like the view.

"Mr Smith?"  
The Doctor looked up into the receptionist's face.  
"Room Nr 310, Mr Angel is waiting for you."  
"Thanks" the Doctor nodded and arose.  
He felt the square look the receptionist gave him behind his back.  
Well, what should she think?, the Doctor thought bitterly. A young and lost man in a tattered coat waiting for money-making Herold Angel in a hotel foyer? He's having an affair. Or just a quick shag. Someone ought to tell his wife, right? Unless she knew...

As the Doctor waited for the elevator he found himself wondering whether or not Herold _had_ a wife. And whether or not he cared.  
He remembered seeing a ring on his finger, but it lacked a typical wedding ring's simplicity and had strange circles engraved. In fact it looked more like a signet ring.

Most of all, the Doctor told himself, it didn't matter what the receptionist thought. Neither did it matter what his business partners thought.  
Herold said he was a friend.  
That was enough for the Doctor.

"Sorry I had to keep you waiting" the Master said as he opened the door before the Doctor could have knocked. To the Doctor's surprise Herold had ordered him to his room, not the conference room as he'd expected.  
"They just wouldn't cease talking" the Master went on as he took the Doctor's hand determinedly and guided his steps into the room.  
"You look tired" he added after a while. The Doctor inspected the room forlornly. He looked up into the Master's face and noticed his grin. He knew that smile. It was burnt into the depths of his mind.  
"Someone woke me up at five o'clock and said he had to leave for a meeting" the Doctor retorted.  
"You could have slept in the foyer. It's been" the Master produced a fob watch from his breast pocket and opened it in an exaggerate way "Nearly four hours."  
"I couldn't" the Doctor replied bluntly "but thanks anyway."  
"What for?" the Master asked as he collapsed onto a comfy couch.

"For caring for me" the Doctor explained "You're the best friend anyone could have."  
For a moment the Master stared at him in shocked silence. Just as the Doctor started wondering whether he'd said something wrong the Master reached out and touched his forehead gingerly.  
"You're not running a fever, are you?"  
The Doctor shook his head, staring at the Master in wonder.

"Good" the Master retrieved his hand, adding as an explanation "It's just... I never thought you'd say that. It's a bit... unusual."

The Doctor nodded quietly. His eyes stayed fixed on the fob watch on the table in front of him.  
" _Fascinating_ , isn't it?" the Master chuckled "Or would you rather say... _Fantastic_? Or _Brilliant_?"  
"Actually I'd say that it's beautiful" the Doctor replied levelly.  
The Master sighed. "Of course" he added quietly "I forgot about your favourite phrase of all times..."  
"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked quizzically.  
"Oh, nothing" the Master replied, watching the Doctor picking up the watch with great anticipation.

"So much little details... the circles and dots... it must be worth a fortune" the Doctor looked up into his face, smiling brightly.  
"Well it's a good thing then, that I've got two of them" the Master explained and took out a similar watch.  
The Doctor stared at him open mouthed before inspecting it closely.  
"But this one looks different" he pointed out "It's as ancient as the other one but not well kept... it's got scratches and it's not even polished."  
"It belonged to a very careless individual" the Master retorted. The Doctor couldn't take his eyes off the small metal thing. He touched it gingerly, caressing it in his hands.  
"It doesn't even tick" he said after a while "and it's stuck."

No wonder you think it's stuck, the Master thought; your expecting the backside to flip open.  
"Beautiful" the Doctor said while the Master retrieved the fob watch from his hands. "Although...the circles seem... I don't know... they seem so restless. It looks chaotic. In a way."

No wonder, the Master thought.  
It's yours.

Then he went to the bathroom to put a post-it on the mirror.

* * *

"Calm down, maybe you left it in the car."  
"I know that I had it on me" Jack snorted "It was there. But it can't have fallen out, can it?"

"I'm sorry" the receptionist said quietly "Mr Angel left for an early meeting. I'm afraid he's checked out at dawn."  
"Damn it" Jack mumbled "Room 41a you said?"  
"Yes, but you can't go in there, it's about to be serviced!" the receptionist yelled as Jack had pushed past him, followed by Ianto.  
"We'll take the stairs, that's faster" Jack grumbled "we can search for the watch later. If I lost it in the foyer it will still be there."

At their arrival the door was slightly ajar, though it didn't look as if anyone had entered since the Master had left.  
Jack pushed back the door: "Anything that looks at least a bit suspicious is to be..."  
Then he stopped.

It wasn't the TRR that was going berserk in his hands that tipped him off.  
It was the innumerable post-its that covered every inch on the walls.

And just two words on each of them.

 _'_ _Too late.'  
_ From everywhere the words seemed to scream at him.

"There's a message, too" Ianto said as he picked up an envelope from a small table "it's got a signet on."  
Jack ripped it open, tearing the paper underneath and stared furiously at the words.

 _'_ _Isn't something missing?'_


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Warning! This chapter contains mentioning of sexual intercourse.**  
 **Also I thought I'd make a little opinion poll. One of my readers (I don't have to conceal that it's DarkSideofTheLoon, do I?) asked if I couldn't get rid of Ianto, because they hate him. So, I thought we'd sort this out democratically: Should Ianto LIVE or DIE, what do you think? Leave your choice in the comments or write me a personal message (PM). It's up to you, my dear readers. And now have fun as the story continues...**

* * *

A soft hand rested on his shoulder, caressing him tenderly.

"Good morning."

The Doctor's eyes snapped open at the affectionate greeting.  
"Mowning..." he retorted with his face in the pillow. Beside his head the Master's fingers entwined with his.  
He could hear the Master chuckling above him before he arose.

The Doctor stretched, feeling a lot lighter, without the Master resting on top of him. In fact he felt lighter than ever before.  
It's been the first night he'd slept through since he could remember. And he felt... safe.  
Safe and freed from all sorrows.

"Coffee or tea?" came the question from the small kitchen next room.  
The Doctor lifted his head in order to give a clear answer: "Tea, please."  
"You always Darjeeling, right?" the Master asked.  
"I think I did", the Doctor retorted and yawned. And slowly the past night's events unravelled themselves inside of his memory. Therefore the Doctor couldn't keep himself from blushing as the Master entered the room.  
The Master placed the steaming cup on the bedside table before sitting down beside the Doctor, fondling the space between his shoulder blades.

"Are you alright?" the Master asked mockingly as the Doctor buried his face deeper in the cushion. The Doctor barely nodded. Sighing the Master stirred his tea.  
"You may not be a virgin but you're blushing nonetheless" the Master added after a while. The Doctor rose, red faced and gawping at him.

"And you're professional whatever you do" snapped the Doctor.  
The Master chuckled quietly. "I'll take that as a compliment."  
"No, I didn't mean..." the Doctor began but broke off. The Master burst into laughter.  
Blushing shamefully, the Doctor folded his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't want to talk about last night, alright?"  
"Alright" replied the Master and sipped his tea "Fine by me."  
The Doctor rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling before desperately trying to change the subject.

"Busy day?" he asked the Master who stared wearily at his opened fob watch.  
"Yep" he replied unnerved "A meeting at nine, at ten I'll have a word with the corporation's security staff members, lunch with the head of the department, a short presentation at half past two pm and an informal meeting at six with potential clients at Eve's Garden.

The Doctor smiled; the Master watched him with satisfaction, enjoying his naive expression.  
"I wonder why you keep that watch" the Doctor said fascinated "you're always exact about time, aren't you? You've got..."  
The Doctor's gaze changed, his eyes became hollow, giving his face that far-off expression the Master knew by now.  
"You've got... a feeling about...time... you can sense it, trickling in your veins, flooding your body, filling your mind..."

The Master laughed heartily, retrieving the Doctor from his broken memories.  
"Yes" he said, biting back a giggle "You could say I _master_ time quite well. I rule over it... I'm a _Lord_ over _Time_..." He watched the Doctor's innocent eyes and bit down on his lower lip as the Doctor nodded innocently.  
"You seem very well organized" the Doctor said earnestly, earning him a laugh from the Master.

"Are you always this naive?" the Master asked, speaking his mind.  
"You tell me" the Doctor replied "I'm the one with the holey memories."  
The Master chuckled, stroking the Doctor's tender back.  
"You sure were naive last night" the Master went on, fondling the blushing Doctor.  
"Shut up" the Doctor hissed, his voice again muffled by the cushion.  
"But it was so cute" the Master laughed "when you asked me to be gentle..."  
"Well, you weren't" the Doctor replied sharply before rolling on to his side. The Master's soft finger's marked their way over his naked skin.  
"In fact you _were_ " the Doctor added subdued "which really surprised me. I had expected you to be more..."  
"Brutal?" the Master said, reading the words from the Doctor's eyes "Violent?"  
The Doctor blushed some more.

"What did you expect?" the Master asked "Me thrashing you around the room until we're howling at the universe?"  
The Doctor kept on blushing, abashed by the Master's seriousness.

"So, lots of running around today?" the Doctor asked, changing back to the previous subject.  
The Master nodded smilingly. "I hope you don't mind."  
"What?" asked the Doctor.  
"Running around" the Master replied.  
The Doctor grumbled quietly as he sunk back into the bed. "Why should I come with you?" he asked, burying his face in the cushion.

"What makes you think you could stay here?" the Master asked disinterested.  
"What makes you think I couldn't?" the Doctor snapped.  
"First of all" the Master began, opening his briefcase and pulling out endless sheets of paper "I'm paying and secondly" and this time he turned around to watch the Doctor's expression soften under the impact of his words "I want to know that you're safe. You know. Until you remember, until it all comes back to you."

The Doctor sat up, watching as the Master sorted through his professional belongings.  
"Thanks" the Doctor mumbled after a while "I hope you don't mind me saying that I don't know what I'd do without you."  
"Oh, I bet you mean it" the Master grinned "and now get dressed, we're off to an early start."

The Doctor arose, standing in the nude in front of the Master.  
He was bashful. But not due to his nakedness.  
Shyly, he placed a warm kiss on the Master's cheek before flinging his arms around him.  
"I need you" he whispered softly and meant it "I need you more than anything in my life."

While splashing sounds emerged from the bathroom the Doctor currently occupied, the Master whistled under his breath as he re-arranged the hotel room's interior, leaving notes and post-its wherever possible.  
Jack was onto him; well, he _hoped_ he was on to him. That stupid Jack must have noticed the fob watch's absence by now.  
He stuck another post-it to the door frame.  
Oh, he loved the chase. And playing catch. And Jack was always too late; he would never arrive in time. And he'd go mad. Oh, he'd go oh so mad.

The Master couldn't bite back a chuckle as he placed another 'Nice Try' note above the sofa.

* * *

Gwen felt stupid.  
All she was apparently good for was fetching lunch and calming down Jack. The domestic approach, eh? She growled under her breath as she returned to the car, knowing that Jack wasn't actually expecting her but the meal she'd brought with her.  
Good grief, she was even more useless than Ianto. Thinking of which...

Ianto nearly bumped into Gwen as he tried to push past her. The look on his face said it all.  
"Again?" she asked downcast. Ianto broke into a sweat.  
"The messages get nastier every time" he replied desperately.  
"Thank God Jack didn't see them" Gwen tried to lighten the mood. But Ianto's mood couldn't even be lightened by a bucket of whitewash.

They entered the car quietly. Jack sighed, sensing the pending disaster.  
"Where'd he get to this time?" he asked wearily. Ianto had dreaded the question.  
"The receptionist said she didn't know, sir" Ianto stuttered "but he should return to his lodgings this evening."

"Anything else?" Jack asked while Gwen handed him his lunch.  
Ianto swallowed. "The room had been... very informative again, sir" Ianto said, fidgeting with the folders beside him.  
" _What_?" Jack pushed on.  
Ianto sighed, his throat tightening as he tried to reply calmly "He has the... the watch, he has the watch."  
And ducked instinctively.

Jack turned around to face him. "That didn't come as a surprise, did it?" Jack asked and tried to smile. Ianto relaxed visibly and even Gwen started breathing again.  
Putting aside his lunch Jack started the car.  
"Let's try to find where our friend is off to next."

* * *

"Wake up sleeping beauty."  
The Doctor was shaken by the shoulders as he had a rough awakening. His head jolted into action before he could have had a look around. (It would have sounded something like this: Chair, curled up, covered by an old jacket; hands, Intruder; panic, run! Run-run-run!)  
His eyes snapped finally open and he stared a grinning Master in the face.

"Tired?" the Master asked as he helped the Doctor to his feet, catching his long brown jacket before it could hit the ground.  
"Still sleeping" replied the Doctor "How come you're not tired? I didn't even see you sleeping last night."  
"I lead a very frugal life" the Master replied charmingly.  
"You mean dissolute" the Doctor snapped groggily and watched the Master assorting notes.  
"What's this?" he asked nosily as the Master taped a sheet to the well-polished meeting table.  
"A symbol" the Master replied without missing a beat "It's a note. Someone's coming to pick it up later. It's a shame, really. He never seems to get to me in time."

"A friend of yours?" the Doctor asked innocently. The Master bit his lower lip in order not to chuckle.  
"More like partners in a game" he replied as he tried to keep his grave expression.  
"Which reminds me: Have you been to 'Eve's Garden' before? It's a lovely place, really. The owner is what _I'd_ call a friend of mine."

* * *

"Too late?" Gwen asked without meaning it. She knew they'd been too late.  
Jack and Ianto got back into the car.  
"The Master has left for dinner" Ianto explained while skimming through the information Jack had received by means of flirting with a pageboy "at six he'll either attend a presentation in one of the corporation's offices or he'll have a meeting with colleagues at 'Eve's Garden'."  
"And I'll be having dinner with Edward tomorrow" he added with a wink. Ianto hardly rolled his eyes.

"What's Eve's Garden?" Gwen asked.  
Ianto and Jack exchanged glances.  
"You don't know the Eve's Garden?" Jack asked.  
Gwen shook her head. "What is it?" she inquired.  
"It's a Casino" Jack explained and Ianto added "and that's Casino with a capital C. It's the biggest Casino in London, it's got conference rooms, hotel included..."  
"And" Jack cut him off "I've heard that some of the table dancers are pretty versatile if you get my meaning."  
Gwen didn't but she interrupted nonetheless. "Wait. Isn't the Hippodrome Casino the biggest casino in London?"

Jack opened his mouth but hesitated.  
"Since when is there a casino named Eve's Garden? And in the inner city, right? I thought they were banned from there." Gwen asked.  
"You're right" Jack replied, his brow furrowing "that's strange."  
"So, what's it gonna be?" Ianto asked "Back to the company or Eve's Garden?"

"We'll split up" Jack concluded "I'll go to Eve's Garden. Gwen, watch for the Master at the company's complex. Any sign of him, you'll give me a call. Ianto, you'll look into the matter of the casino. Find the owner. I'm sure he knows his costumers, especially the Master."

Jack stared glumly at the darkening sky. "This got PARADOX written all over it again."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:  
Thanks for the reviews and feedback :) Looks like my poor Loony friend has been outvoted.  
Ianto lives!  
This chapter contains two hidden references to 'Bioshock' and one to Charles M Schulz' 'Peanuts'. Be the first one to spot them and spoil the others!  
**

* * *

The Master sat down in the conference room, leaning back in the comfy leather chair. The Doctor observed the interior closely, his eyes continuously drawn back to the floor in embarrassment.  
"Nice isn't it?" the Master asked, indicating to the Doctor that he could sit down without having to worry to get dust on the black leather "I told you, don't be shy. You don't get anywhere in life by being shy."  
"But we're friends anyway" the Doctor mumbled absent-minded. This place was giving him a headache.  
The foyer had been broadly lit. There was a strong atmosphere of cigarette smoke and brandy in the corridors. And the constant shouting and laughing from the tables...

Gladly the Master had closed the door behind them. And now they sat in the gloom, in a conference room where the walls were decorated with dark wood and the tables were so neatly polished that you daren't place a hand upon them. It was that kind of table you felt sorry for bumping your knee on because of the scratches and dents you've made into the expensive furnishing.

"Sit down already" the Master snapped "Just be yourself."  
"I am always myself" the Doctor nearly whined while getting uncomfortable on the chair "Who else could I be?"  
"'Make yourself comfortable' is what I intended to say" the Master said, trying to stay calm "Are you trying to get on my nerves?"  
"I'm just myself" the Doctor replied nervously.

The Master laughed out loud, slapping a hand unnecessarily hard on the Doctor's knee.

Bashfully the Doctor stared at his reflexion in the polish.  
Something was wrong. The place felt wrong. It wasn't the visitor's apparent lasciviousness or the large amounts of alcohol that were consumed that made him feel restless.  
The place _was_ wrong.  
It reeked. It stank.  
 _Cigarettes and despair_...

"Relax" the Master said soothingly "There's nothing to be worried about."  
The Doctor nodded, trying to smile. The smile _was_ contagious; and you couldn't get rid of it.

There was a knocking without.  
"Come in" the Master said openly, smiling broadly at the approaching man.  
"Ah, Mr Crane. Pleased to meet you. This is my business partner...Mr Smith. Mr Smith, this is Tony Crane, owner of 'Eve's Garden'."

"Fancy seeing you again" the man replied cheerfully, smiling at the Master and extending a hand to the Doctor "Mr Smith."

The Doctor stared at Tony in shocked silence.

* * *

"Any news from Jack?"

Gwen sighed, flipping through a catalogue while sitting in the car. She had to admit that Ianto's voice sounded even more ridiculous through the hands-free car kit.  
"No" Gwen replied, turning another page "Nothing." She paused while licking her finger.  
"Any signs of _... him_?" Ianto asked cautiously.  
Gwen sighed again. "No, nothing. So he's either at the casino or somewhere else. Anyway I'm wasting my time." She tossed the catalogue aside and leaned back, trying to relax in the uncomfortable passenger's seat. "What about you?"

"'Eve's Garden' is run by a Mr Tony Crane; he was generous enough to name his casino after his fiancée and business partner, Eve Olawi." Ianto explained.  
Gwen could hear him shuffling pages in the background "Apparently their business kept growing ever since they moved from Manchester to London which was... at least it showed up in the records like this... four years ago."  
"Four years?" Gwen asked unbelievingly "I've never seen it before in my life. A week ago it wasn't even there, I swear it!"

"He's recently been popular among business man, organizing meetings and letting them draw to close regularly" Ianto went on.  
 _Help me._  
Gwen flinched, bumping her head on the car's ceiling; she rubbed the instantly bruising skin.  
"Ouch."  
"What's happened?" Ianto asked "Gwen?"  
"I'm okay, I'm fine" Gwen replied and wasn't. She had heard a voice, though her ears refused to admit that it had passed them. The words had been in her head.

 _Help me._

Gwen flinched again. "Who is this?" she asked panicky, scrambling out of the car.  
And there were pictures.  
Gwen supported herself on the door frame, panting frantically.  
"Ianto, get off the line" Gwen yelled "I need to call Jack."

Gwen collapsed back onto her seat, feeling her veins itch and an unnatural hotness bubbling up inside of her. She had Jack on speed dial but she wasn't sure whether she'd get him soon enough.  
"Damn, damn, damn, bloody heritage!" she wheezed under her breath.  
She had felt it.  
Stupid heritage allowed her to bloody communicate with damn aliens whether she liked it or not.  
It was in her blood.  
And she'd _seen_ the Doctor.  
 _She knew..._

"Come on, Jack" Gwen groaned "Pick up, pick up, pick up..."

* * *

"Is Sally here?" the Master asked. Tony had sat down beside him, smiling at the Master thoughtfully.  
"Don't know 'em all by name" Tony replied before his eyes moved over to the slightly ajar door. "Mary?"  
A young lady, scarcely but invitingly dressed, stepped into the room, smiling dully.  
"Yes, Mr Crane?"  
" 'ave a look if Sally is here, will ya?" Tony said, eying her up closely but without further interest "There's a good girl."  
"And if you find 'er" he yelled after her "Tell her that Herold Angel wants to see her."

"Very kind of you" the Master said diplomatically.

The Doctor tried evading Tony's gazed; therefore he was even more surprised as he realized that Tony paid him no attention whatsoever. As if he'd never seen him before in his life; as if _he_ was the stranger this time, the stranger Mr Angel had brought along.  
But it was him.  
The Doctor stared at the polished table nervously.  
Those eyes. He'd never forget those eyes.

"I didn't see Ron on the way in" were the next words the Doctor picked up from the strangely reserved conversation "Is this his day off?"  
"He's not working 'ere anymore" Tony replied while getting comfortable in his chair "got a family with kiddies and all and doesn't think that's the proper environment for 'em."  
"Sad" the Master confirmed "So who's the charming lady at the door now?"

In the Doctor's opinion neither 'charming' nor 'lady' would have applied to the monstrous being that guarded the door; though its long hair had caught his attention.

"Rosie" Tony replied "She, you see, is a family person. Got two kids already. I'm telling you, from now on, I'll employ mothers only. That's what I'd call authority."

"Good, good" the Master agreed without having listened at all.  
But he gets along well, doesn't he?, the Doctor thought. He never gives his full attention to anyone and yet makes them crave for his attention. He casts a spell around anyone he talks to.  
Then he just adds a universal phrase and that's that.

"Always have your eyes on the goal" he added in what he must think of as his reflective voice.  
Tony nodded quietly. Then, without the Master noticing it, he reached into his left trouser pocket and took a quick glance at a watch before it disappeared in his hands again.  
"They're running late" Tony noted; he got out of his chair and groaned "I'll have a word with my secretary." As he was halfway through the door he added "And tell your friend that he can have a look around."

The Master lifted his gaze and stared at the Doctor who'd jumped to his feet the moment Tony had left.  
"You seem nervous" the Master noticed "A brandy could take care of that, I'm sure."  
"I need some air" the Doctor mumbled as he plunged out of the room.  
"Try not the get lost" the Master had shouted after him.

It was moments later before the Doctor got the true meaning of his words.

* * *

"Jack!" Gwen nearly yelled at him as he finally picked up the phone "What's happened? Where are you?"  
But before Jack could reply she cut him off again: "Jack you need to listen, it's the Doctor, he's at the casino, I know that he's at the casino! You need to find him Jack, as soon as possible! The Doctor's in great danger."  
"I am at the casino, Gwen" Jack replied and Gwen heard that he was trying not to show that she was making him feel uneasy.  
"It's a paradox, Jack" Gwen's throat was tightening as she felt the strange and unearthly fear flooding her nervous system "the whole casino is a paradox, it shouldn't exist, it was never meant to exist! He's scared, the Doctor's so scared and alone and the Master has..."

Gwen stopped. Her vision had become a blur but now it was clear, undoubtedly crystal clear.  
The Doctor was standing in front of her.  
And he was looking back.  
"Why are you staring at me?"

At which point her synapses snapped and she passed out in the car.

* * *

The casino was a maze. Rooms seemed to shift whenever the Doctor took a turn; corridors disappeared or lead back to where he'd started without making a bend; and always the same people behind the noisy slot machines or laughing at the tables.

The Doctor tried to persuade himself that he was getting nervous. In fact he felt closer to the edge of his mental capacity than ever before. He was freaking out.  
And no matter which way he turned he was back in the Big Hall, in front of the giant roulette table.

Unnerved by the barmaid's repetitive question whether or not she could get him something, and plagued by constant déjà vu he leaned against the bar, feeling his head spinning round and round as the room was ablaze in a burning gold and lashing orange.  
And it seemed so... unreal... so ridiculously pompous.  
It looked like someone had tried to build an Art Deco room both around and into a Royal Dining Hall.

And it wasn't only tipping him off. His vision kept changing and reshaping every time he dared to blink.

Therefore he was considerably unnerved by finding the same pair of eyes following him constantly.  
He turned at his heel, feeling the fear chasing his stuck-up anger round in his skull, and yelled:  
"Why are you staring at me?"

And then his mouth dropped open as he realized that Jack had found him again.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Warning! This chapter is rated M for a reason. Oh and thanks very much for any reviews, follows and favourites! I love you!**

* * *

"Doctor" Jack tried to approach the Doctor in the least frightening way possible "Please, Doctor. I'm not going to harm you. Please, I only want to help you."

The Doctor, scared, worn down and panicky, just stood there and stared back at him, too tired to escape.  
And he felt an irresistible urge to not speak but scream his mind.  
"Who are you?" he yelled at Jack "Who. Are. You?! And why do you keep following me?!"  
Jack stared at him in bewilderment, fighting against the bubbling fear Gwen had planted into him. But he bit back the pending tears of desperation and continued in a calm voice: "I want to help you, Doctor. I'm your friend..." correcting himself at the glare the Doctor was flashing him "You _used_ to be a friend."  
"Then do me a favour and get out of my life!" the Doctor kept on yelling, not even aware that he was becoming centre of attention "If you're really my friend then go to hell when I'm telling you to!"

Then he turned on his heel and ran towards an infinitely bending corridor.  
He just kept running, never looking back, never looking _at all_.

The Doctor was scared and close to breaking down.  
He was scared and he wanted to feel safe, to feel home and secure like he'd felt with the Master at his side. He wanted to get back. He wanted to find the Master.  
But he was too tired, too frightened and too weak to keep searching.

After collapsing against a wall and falling to his knees the Doctor didn't even know which way he was running to. Or from.  
The Doctor sobbed, tears streaming down his face.  
He just wanted it to stop. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to finally fall asleep and never wake up again.

Supporting him on a tasteless pseudo-roman pillar he got to his feet, swaying and trembling with fear.  
This place was getting inside of his head. It was driving him insane.

Trying to breathe in deeply the Doctor straightened up, assembling his remaining sanity.  
There were windows. He saw windows on the other side of the corridor; they were half hidden behind ridiculously pompous curtains, but they were windows. And through it the stars shone which meant that there was a city outside, which meant that there still existed an _outside_.

Slowly the Doctor walked towards the windows, cracking it open.  
Air. Fresh air, that didn't reek of greed and brandy and smoke.  
The Doctor took a deep breath and looked down.  
And there were people. Down there were _real_ people, doing some late night shopping.  
Laughing, singing, _talking_.

"Did you see that, Charlie? Weren't those pumps with the little bow simply adorable?"  
"Yes dear" a weary male voice replied meekly "they looked really sweet on you."  
"But they hurt; they really hurt, it was horrid! But you could buy them for me anyway, right honey?"  
"Anything you say dear."

The Doctor froze. Not only because of the cold air that was blowing through the open window into the warmth of the corridor but due to the realization that he was at least at the fifth floor and had heard a quiet conversation from passers-by over the noise of the traffic and the wind.

That wasn't possible, was it? Especially not under these circumstances.  
He couldn't have heard them. Now Charlie and Dear were just two small specks on the street, far off and not in any way different from the other members of the large nightly crowd.  
But he could have sworn he'd...

"Again?"  
The Doctor had heard the female voice and turned. Judging by its loudness and clarity the Doctor had thought that the young lady must have stood right behind him.  
To his surprise he hardly saw anyone at all until he noticed the two ladies leaning against the window at the far end of the corridor. He had difficulties watching their mouths move but he heard them talking nonetheless.  
"He's lost again? Blimey he must be the worst poker player on earth."  
"He's an idiot" the Doctor clearly heard that this was a different female voice "Lost all his wages already and keeps on playing. I ask you my dear; what should I do?"

The Doctor clapped his hands over his ears. His temples throbbed.  
That was impossible. How could he hear them? They were so far away...  
Releasing his hands the constant busy noise of the casino flowed back.  
His eyes wandered back to the ladies on the other side.  
They must still be talking, the Doctor deducted from their furious gestures, but he couldn't hear a word. He couldn't even see their lips moving.

Hypnotized the Doctor shut the window and walked back to the pillar he'd leaned against. Innumerable doors in the corridor, half open.  
But he heard nothing. No whispered conversation, no laughter, no cries emerging from the roulette table alternating between "Rien ne vas plus" and "Faites vos jeux" or the the compulsory "Alea iacta est!" if someone at the Escalero table had been a bit too enthusiastic.

Nothing.  
Just footsteps behind him and two words that made his hair stand on end.  
"Hello... _John._.."

* * *

"Gwen? Can you hear me? Gwen, answer."  
Gwen had answered the phone; actually she hadn't answered, she had just picked it up. As she held it at arm's-length she heard Jack's voice repeating itself over and over again:  
"Gwen, what's happened? Can you hear me? Gwen!"

Lazily she lifted it, pressing it against her ear gingerly.  
"Jack?" she whispered irritated "Are you there?"  
"Yes, it's me, it's Jack, Gwen where are you?" Jack asked worriedly but relieved nonetheless that she'd regained consciousness.  
"I don't know" Gwen whispered quietly "I've been... there, Jack. I've seen the Doctor and you and then everything just... collapsed, melding into one another. I don't know Jack, I'm... ooh, my head. My vision is still dancing."

"Alright, calm down" Jack instructed her "You've passed out and you're probably dehydrated. Sit down and breathe in deeply."  
"I can't" Gwen replied faintly.  
"Why?" Jack asked alarmed.  
"Because I can't feel the ground, Jack. I'm walking, but I don't know where I am. I can't see, Jack. But I keep going because I'm too scared of the dark. And it's all in my head, all those voices, all those poor creatures and I can't help them. I can't help them, Jack! But they're so alone, Jack, they're lost and so alone. Lost and so alone..."  
Her voice trailed off and Jack was aware that she hadn't even a bit sounded like herself.

"Gwen, calm down" Jack ordered her "You've left the car, but there's a GPS signal in your phone, I can trace it..." then he groaned "And Ianto isn't picking up his phone."  
"Please Jack..." Gwen whispered "Help me."  
"I'm doing all I can from around here" Jack replied hurriedly.  
"Help me" Gwen repeated, her voice changing sound and shape as she repeated the words over and over.  
" _Help me._ "

"Just... stay where you are" Jack told her "I'm coming to pick you up. I'm on my way."  
"Help them Jack", this sounded a bit more like Gwen than the previous words "Help them."  
"I'm coming, Gwen. I've left the casino, I'm on my way."

Gwen had already hung up. Speeding away through the night in the dark SUV Jack wondered if he'd made the right decision. But at least, he thought to himself, Gwen had asked for his help.  
The Doctor was beyond repair.

* * *

There was no escape. He was cornered no matter which way he turned. And those icy, sky-blue eyes followed him everywhere.  
"What's wrong?" Tony asked.  
The Doctor couldn't reply. He was dumb struck and immobile. And he was too scared to notice that Tony kept cornering him, pushing and shoving him until there was nowhere to escape to;  
the Doctor ended up pressed flat against the wall and Tony standing before him, blocking his way.

It was the strange quietness that surrounded Tony which scared the Doctor.

"Please, I..." the Doctor managed through a tightening throat. The sharp glare Tony shot him could have cut through iron, his blue piercing eyes pricking his skin painfully.  
And now the Doctor remembered what he'd thought the first time he'd seen Tony:  
He's irresistible. You obey him because he scares you.  
He manipulates you. It trickles into your mind.  
And you don't even realize _when_ it's starting.

The moment when the Doctor realized that it was starting was when he felt Tony's hands guiding the Doctor's fingers down to his crotch.  
He flinched.

Tony didn't object; he didn't _say_ anything.  
He just reinforced the grip on his hand, shoving the Doctor's fingers against the thick material of his pants. But the Doctor felt the demandingly pulsating flesh underneath nonetheless.

His lips pressed together in disgust the Doctor tried to withdraw his hands when he learned that fingers, though thin and delicate, could manage a firm grip. A firm grip that could crush every bone in his hand.

Buzzing noisily the world around seemed to speed past the Doctor, the laughter from the casino had died away minutes ago, he was trapped in his own little reality, with Tony's sky-blue eyes leering at him.

In the strange silky soundlessness that had the corridor in its grasp, the sound of Tony unzipping his trousers had the effect of a thunder roll, echoing in the Doctor's ears, deafening him.  
And then there was this scent...

"Just make it quick, a'right?" Tony whispered as he leaned closer, his lips titillating his ear "You don't want Herold to see this, d'you?"

The Doctor tried not to breathe in deeply.  
The air had become thicker; it reeked disgustingly of sweat and musk, the musky smell that emerged from Tony's invitingly open trousers. Tony's scent blocked out all the Doctor's synapses, screaming in his skull and living him scared and panicking and hopelessly lost.

The Doctor didn't know if his hands were pushed or drawn to Tony's twitching flesh by an invisible force. But his fingers closed around his shaft, jerking up and down of their own accord.  
The world was still closing in around him. He was pressed tightly against the wall, half hidden behind a pillar with Tony's disgustingly throbbing member in his hands, giving him a hand job.  
And he tried to think of Herold.  
He hoped that he'd come looking for him, that he'd see...

The Doctor's hands, until now enchanted by Tony's spell, stopped abruptly in mid-motion.  
 _What?_ He heard his mind asking mockingly, _Then what?_

It must have been something in the Doctor's expression, the Doctor swore later on, because after the two scaring orbs that were Tony's eyes had melded with his own he heard him whisper:  
"That's right John. D'you want Herold to see you like this? Do you?"

Driven by tiredness and despair the Doctor shook his head automatically.  
"Then be a good boy" Tony went on, covering the Doctor's neck with butterfly kisses. Then he moaned aloud.  
The Doctor's hands moved rhythmically once more, stroking Tony's firm erection, smearing the first drops of preseminal fluid over his sweaty skin, jacking him off, enticing him, eliciting sweet moans...  
 _The constant smell of cigarettes and despair. Cigarettes and despair_...

He didn't know when it had been over; neither did he know how and why the corridor had opened up into the hall where he'd started from.  
But there he was. The Doctor.  
Running. Just running.  
Always running.

He had reached the conference room's door but couldn't stop. He just couldn't. Deaf to the conversations and the sound of clinking glasses he pushed open the door, tumbling forward.  
The cheerful audience hardly noticed him at all. Only to the Master he became centre of attention; he stared at the Doctor from across the room, the amber orbs burning their way over his skin.  
Then he flashed him his usual smile.  
Only this time it failed to cheer up the Doctor.

Pushing and stumbling through the crowd of celebrating people he inched his way towards the Master, sobbing quietly, swallowing his pride and fear and everything he still possessed.  
Having reached his target he fell forward, collapsing into the Master's arms while twitching uncontrollably.  
And still the music played its terrible tune and the people laughed...  
"Watch out" the Master whispered, still smiling as he caught the Doctor. "What's the matter?"  
The Doctor was barely able to hold back the tears; he whimpered quietly, sobbing into the Master's sleeve "He... used me..."

The Master laughed his hearty, perfunctory business laugh and slapped him on the back amicably.  
"Who did?" he asked as if the Doctor had proposed a hilarious arrangement. Always so professional...  
The Doctor whined, choking on the tears as his throat grew tighter.  
"Tony" the Doctor managed, close to breaking down "He...he...forced me into...to...touching him..."

This time the world didn't freeze.  
The sounds didn't dissolve, the lights didn't dim out and the reality didn't seem to shrink around the Doctor. He still stood there, in front of the Master, barely conscious any longer.  
The sounds of clinking glasses in the background had become an annoying routine by now.

"Tony abused me."

The Master was still staring at the Doctor, smiling mildly.  
A light flash of burning fire seared the Master's amber eyes; it was the glint of madness that, subconsciously, the Doctor knew and had learned to fear.  
But it was the Master's reply that really put the Doctor out of his depth.

"So what?"


	19. Chapter 19

The roaring in his head drowned out the sounds of the casino.  
The Doctor opened his eyes, breathing in deeply.  
They were still there, at the edge of hearing; the noisy prompting of the slot machines, the clinking of glasses, the sounds from the roulette table, the talking...

The Doctor blinked, groggily rubbing his eyes.  
He sat up and stretched; he'd been resting on a couch though he couldn't remember lying down.

The talking. The conversations were loud and unmistakeable; the Doctor could have sworn that he was lying amongst the casino's customers and was therefore surprised to find himself in a secluded lounge-esque room.  
But even here it lingered.  
The Doctor arose unsteadily to his feet.  
 _The stench._ The stench of despair and forlornness. A dash of expensive alcoholic beverages, a tinge of cigarette smoke and the smell of pure desperation.  
And the conversations…

"It's a raw deal, Herold; that's all 'm saying."  
"You're offending me. You asked me over to discuss business and now..."  
"We are, in your words, 'discussing business'. But you're not very willing to compromise."

The Doctor's stomach turned into a knot as soon as he'd recognized the tone of voice as Tony's.  
And yet he had identified his immanent target; a half closed door across the room. Though he was sure that Tony was in there…  
Well, the Master was in there, too. And he needed him; his head was aching and his world didn't only seem upside down but inside out and sideways.  
Somehow the Master had managed to lighten his mood, to give him hope, to see light in the darkness. Though cruel he sometimes was (and, let's face it: which tradesman isn't?) he was there for him.  
He cared for him.  
 _Yes_ , a sensitive voice inside of his head added, _in a sick way_.

"Have I ever betrayed you, Tony? I know you're a bloody decent chap. And you know that I can trust you. In the same way as you can trust me."  
"It's a matter of simplification and proportionality, is all 'm saying. "  
"Oh, come now, stop pretending. I know you're just trying to be cheeky."

The Doctor had trouble concentrating while staggering towards the door. He didn't so much push it open as collapse against it, forcing it to swing back.

Tony and the Master sat on either sides of a large office desk, their eyes now resting on the Doctor as he supported himself against the doorframe.  
A glint of surprise in the Master's eyes displayed his concern while Tony, on the other hand, was leering at him. He flashed the Doctor a smile of mild disinterest before continuing:  
"Anyway, I'd like you to know that I'm not only leaving you in charge but make it your complete responsibility; conversely, I'll provide an appropriate room."

One minute centre of attention, the next moment the Doctor found himself ignored as the Master proceeded with the discussion.  
They didn't seem to take any notice of him whatsoever.  
The Doctor cupped his hands over his ears before pressing his fingers against his temples.  
How can they even talk in there?, he asked himself while closing his eyes and concentrating on drowning out the sounds of the casino that reverberated throughout every room.  
How can they stand that dreadful noise?

Feeling a soft yet determined hand on his shoulder the Doctor was shoved out of the way as a beautiful young lady entered, dressed in…  
The Doctor blinked. Well, it wasn't what she wore but rather what she didn't wear what made it so exciting.

Her dark skin bearing a pearly shine, the young lady's lips parted slightly as she smiled at him in a perfunctory inviting way. Her graceful dark eyes hadn't even bothered to take a closer look at him as she minced her way over to the office desk.  
Without either of the conversation partners at the desk taking much notice of it, the smiling beauty rummaged through the stacks of paper, assorting a few documents here, removing a few sheets there, before tidying up the piles and placing them neatly on top of each other.  
Tony didn't seem to take any notice of the adorable thin fingers grazing around his hands.

His heart racing, the Doctor dug his nails into the door post, irritated by the lass' appearance.

Without interrupting the conference the gorgeous lady leaned over Tony's shoulder, her soft lips titillating his ear as she whispered to him.  
A marginal nod from Tony was all she got in return. His fingers entangling with hers their hands closed around one another, firm and tight, before he flashed her a brief smile, taking his eyes off the Master not longer than necessary.

But it had been there nonetheless; the Doctor had seen it.  
Something soft. Something tender. Something warm upon Tony's cold lips.

The pair's fingers detangled instantly as the dark-skinned lady pulled away, earning herself another dreamy look from Tony.  
She winked at the Doctor, smiling at him as she strutted past.

The Doctor grabbed the doorpost out of pure shock and distress.  
Her face…her beautifully tanned skin, her almond shaped eyes…

The Doctor breathed in deeply, the world around him becoming a racing blur.  
She had reminded him of someone… well, 'reminded' would be understated.  
Her appearance had shocked him.  
There had been a woman in his life, a woman just like her, the Doctor was sure.  
With an adorable smile, a beautiful ebony tanned body, a hearty laugh…  
A face so beautiful…  
The Doctor stared at the racing grey-washed colours in front of his eyes, barely able to whisper the name abiding on his lips.  
"Martha…"

"He may be acting coyly right now… but that's just him, playing hard to get."  
The Master's statement was met with a dissipating chuckle from Tony.  
"Oh, come on now, stop it" his voice barely hid his disapproval "the way he's standing there, so shyly, with his hands pressed against his thighs so chastely…"

"I mean business" the Master said levelly as he evaded the Doctor's gaze nonchalantly.  
"You always mean business" Tony smirked while shaking his head. The Doctor froze in silent horror as his shimmering blue eyes skimmed over him.  
"I'm dead serious" the Master replied earnestly, leaning back in his chair.

"Take it or leave it."

Tony breathed in deeply. He looked back and forth between the Doctor and the Master.  
Then he cocked a disapproving eyebrow at him.  
"C'me on" he whispered while licking his lips; the Doctor shuddered as Tony's leering glance touched upon him.  
The Master nodded corroboratively.  
"He's yours. All yours. And he'll be all over you."

"One night" Tony replied "and you'll receive payment in..."  
"No" the Master held up his hands, shaking his head "Money is out of the question."  
"But it's funny, innit?" Tony replied with a perky grin on his lips. "In my experience money doesn't only open doors but legs as well."  
As the Master joined in his laughter the Doctor's stomach turned into a knot.  
"Nevertheless" the Master went on while he calmed down, the boisterous smile on his lips consumed by his professional candidness "I won't accept any payment whatsoever. It's just a favour. It's Christmas after all and I'm in a charitable mood."  
He shot the Doctor a side-way glance before adding: "I just want to share my _luck_ with you."

The Doctor froze with horror as realization dawned that he was once again thrust into the spotlight.  
The Master leaned forward, locking on to Tony's gaze.  
"So: Do we have a deal?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Long chapter ahead. Near the end it contains an M rated scene (not too graphic though) but be warned!**

* * *

Water trickled down the tilled wall, gushing towards the drain noisily. Steam arose, splaying and melding with the damp air until the bathroom was veiled in a warm, shower induced fog.  
Covered in cascades of splashing water the Doctor stood with his arms wide open and breathing shallowly.

He'd closed his eyes, becoming numb and deaf to reality as he persevered beneath the shower head, the hot water splattering over him. It titillated his skin while it burned.  
The Doctor had been in dire need of a shower; he'd yearned for a shower since he'd been out in the cold with the Master again. And he needed it to wash away the obnoxious feeling that had infested his body and agglutinated his skin.  
Tony had breathed down his neck as he'd been forced to give him a hand job and the Doctor felt as though he was covered in his sickening sweat. He _stank_.

While rubbing over his skin and scratching away the scabs unintentionally the Doctor leaned against the tilled wall; it grew warmer and he liked the touch of the glazing.  
The Doctor felt safe.  
He'd been shaken, beaten and demoralized; he'd lost belief in humankind.  
But he knew one thing for sure and while thinking about it the Doctor clenched his fists unconsciously.  
He knew that he couldn't trust anybody.

Quietly the Doctor stood in the shower, trying hard not to think about anything at all.  
He felt calm; he didn't even know how long he'd been trapped in that bloody casino so far and he'd had a hell of a time. And still he felt calm and secure.

The trickling sounds of the water were almost like a chant. It created a humming noise, a buzzing whisper that infiltrated his bones. It soothed him. It made him feel secure.  
He was safe inside the shower, secluded from the obscenely noise casino, safe and sound where Tony's voraciously greedy eyes couldn't even heist a glimpse of his body.

The shower was his safe haven.  
And only here he could hear the salving sounds of the dripping water...

The Doctor was too lost in his own thoughts to even notice the two dark silhouettes that loomed in front of the shower's sliding door. Or maybe it was the fact that the glass was see-through the wrong way round.  
But the water was too loud and the steam was too thick so he failed to catch even a word from the figures without.

"He's a real cutie" Tony said while leering at the Doctor. The Master watched him attentively but with a feline dash of mild disinterest.  
"A body you could die for" the Master said, inciting Tony "And many have, let me tell you. That's just his charm. He turns a lot of heads. And he's not just eyecandy but a special treat."

Tony chuckled quietly; the Master felt the tension that was building up inside of him.  
"Stop making me horny" Tony smiled and nudged the Master in the ribs. He retorted a strange little smile. It took madness to a whole new level (probably an underwater level).

The Master folded his arms as he leaned against the closed bathroom's door behind him.  
"If you want to work up an appetite go ahead... I'm gonna watch."  
At first Tony stared at him with disbelieving eyes.  
But there was something in the Master's appearance that made him so reliable...

The Doctor had turned his back to the sliding door. That was probably the only reason why he didn't note the intruder approaching him.

* * *

"Oh, I'm so sorry Jack."  
Gwen wasn't as much sitting as constantly slumping. Right now she wished she was only suffering from cardiovascular problems.  
Jack handed her a cuppa and gave her a pat on the shoulder that was meant to reassure her; all it did was making her spill her tea.

"You shouldn't have come, Jack" Gwen whispered in a voice filled with both gratefulness and reproach.  
"I did the right thing" Jack replied earnestly "and quit moping, alright?"  
"Sorry" Gwen whispered quietly "But I'm fine now, it's over and I'm fine. It stopped."  
At this point Jack shot her a sideway glance and bit his lover lip out of nervousness.  
So she's lost him, he thought. And that this meant trouble was sad certainty.

Gwen stared at the passing cars while slumping down further in the co-driver's seat.  
"We better get going" Jack mumbled absent-minded while getting back into the car.  
Picking up Gwen from the Battersea Park had helped clearing his mind. And the fresh air made him feel unusually alive. No, not alive. _Real_ was the word he'd been looking for.  
Here everything was _real_.

Gwen sipped her tea quietly as Jack set off. She knew that Jack was torn between asking the pending question with the possibility of being disappointed and having hope and therefore never asking at all.  
Therefore she was quite surprised that not even a minute had passed before he said:

"Can you still... I mean you said that the Doctor could speak through you... that you could see with his eyes... is he... is he still..."  
"He's still at the casino" Gwen replied hastily. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable and knew that Jack would experience pricks of conscience if he found out. "I know because..."  
"Because?" Jack repeated as Gwen hesitated.  
"Because I can still feel his fear. He's..." Gwen stopped in order not to upset Jack more than necessary.  
"What?" Jack snapped while he tried concentrating on driving carefully.

"He's scared. _So scared. The shadows are coming closer_ " Gwen mumbled, the change in her voice manifesting itself as she went along.  
"Gwen, what do you see?" Jack asked nervously. He'd never experienced Gwen's medium skills before and he wasn't quite sure whether or not it should be pushed to any limits. But he made a mental note on having her examined as soon as they were back in Wales.

"It's... steam... _steaming, gushing_...it's a bathroom, Jack. He's in a bathroom behind the headquarters... No, please... Please stop..."  
"It's okay Gwen, that's enough. Thanks" Jack replied. Headquarters and bathroom didn't sound good. But at least it was a start. He knew where to start looking. And this time, and Jack meant it, this time he'd drag the Doctor away even if he was kicking and screaming. He should have done it before.

He'd been so stupid to feel offended by his words; the Doctor wasn't himself and he'd know it. But his words had hurt him nonetheless. But this time he wouldn't care.  
He'd probably have to gag him, but that would be alright because technically he'd be helping the Doctor, right?

"Please stop..."  
"It's alright Gwen" Jack mumbled absent minded. He hadn't paid Gwen or her wails any attention whatsoever. Therefore he was considerably shocked as he realized that it was the Doctor's voice that came from her lips:  
" _No, please... please stop...please stop..._ "

* * *

The Doctor was pressed flat against the tiles; they cooled beneath his touch.  
He was too shocked by the invasive fingers that had dared to reach for his sensitive spots; he could hardly breathe, the pressure in his chest would crush his lungs any minute now.

Tony's fingers burned as the travelled over his skin, pinching him, sucking at him, digging his nails into his delicate thighs. He slipped closer and closer, fondling him, groping him, feeling for his hypersensitive flesh, grabbing it and squeezing it tightly as he held it in his grip.

The Doctor flinched and felt his knees growing weaker; his nails scratching over the tiles he tried to steady himself while getting away from Tony as far as possible.  
Gladly Tony had released hi pressure on the Doctor's sensitive spot before he tumbled and slid to his knees, his head resting against the wall as he looked up into the sky-blue depths of infinity that were Tony's eyes.

Panicly he scrambled up, trying to half hop half crawl away from his aggressor but Tony way already on top of him, wrestling him down on the wet floor and pinning him to the ground with his weight.

The Doctor daren't open his mouth. He was devastated.  
If he'd possessed the strength he'd screamed at Tony and thrashed him around the room. That desperate, needy bastard had dared to pluck the only peaceful and relaxing moment from him, destroying it by invading the shower, his warm and hot sanctuary only to violate him one more time.  
But the Doctor was too tired and broken to protest, he evaded gazing as the burning sky-blue orbs and focussed on the showerhead above him, trying to feel every trickle of the water, every drop of it against the creeping cold.  
Only in his thoughts he begged him to stop.

To his surprise Tony contented himself with grinding against his skin and dry humping his wet hips instead of forcing himself into the Doctor.  
His smile was disturbingly frank; the Doctor was forced into looking at as Tony lowered his head, placing demanding kisses on his neck and licking his moist nipples.  
Hadn't it been for the constantly dripping water that covered their bodies he would have rubbed the Doctor's skin sore by now, his rhythmically thrusting hips clashing against the Doctor's bruising pelvis with increasing force.

Tony grabbed the Doctor by the shoulders as he thrust forward, his pulsating flesh blazing its trail towards the Doctor's nether regions.  
The Doctor closed his eyes as he felt limb chafing against limb.  
Unintentionally the Doctor dug his nails into Tony's arms, thereby eliciting a soft moan from him.

"That's how I like 'em" he whispered scarcely audible "Tender skinned and shaking."

The Doctor's eyes snapped open as he sat up and widened in wonder at his own strength. He'd managed to push Tony off his body and was staring at him now, unaware of what to do next.  
Tony stood up slowly with his limb still scarily hard. He hardly cast another glance at the Doctor before letting the door slide open; he simply negated the Doctor's resistance, pretending it didn't happen.  
While flashing him a smile to prove that nothing exactly wrong had befallen in here, and stepped out of the shower.

The Doctor scrambled up, trembling with fear and rage at the same time.  
He was hardly back on his feet before stumbling out of the shower and falling to his knees onto the soft carpet on the floor. A towel was offered him and the Doctor looked up in horror as realization dawned that it wasn't his prior violator but the Master who was standing beside him.

Quietly his eyes filled with tears as he turned his head slowly, catching a glimpse of the see-through glass on the shower's sliding door. He stood up, swaying precariously before turning to the Master, naked and shaking with his cheeks flushing and eyes watering.  
The Master smiled his usual smile, handing the Doctor the towel and extending a hand towards the half-open door.

The Doctor stared. He just stared.  
He stared at the paltry room in front of him, at the dirty floor and dusty windows.  
And most of all he stared at the bed, a bed that was so unrealistically large and obscenely furnished, a bed that stood in the middle of the room like an instrument of torture, expensively decorated but so bluntly indicative.  
He needn't even see Tony sitting on the bed. Neither did he need the Master's reassuring pat on the back.

He just turned.  
Turned, grabbed his clothes and ran.  
He just ran and ran and never stopped.


	21. Chapter 21

"Bugg'rit."  
The old codger coughed his unhealthy cough as he patted the fat where his stomach should have been. It went 'bloing' quietly while snapping back into shape.  
The old homeless man hadn't minded that the rushing man had trodden on him; after all he'd looked like he'd been really in a hurry. And since he'd been scarcely dressed he'd definitely been off to a warmer place.

The codger yawned as he leaned back in his natural beanbag called back fat. He'd read today's notice in his bound tear-off calendar attentively. He'd wondered whether it had been a warning or an announcement.  
'You... better... watch... out' it had read.  
He had read it again and again but he couldn't make head or scale of it, or whatever it was.  
"Bugg'rit" the old codger mumbled again and meant it.  
He scratched himself thoughtfully.

As he looked up he found that he was being ignored by a young welsh lady. He waggled his eyebrows at her nonetheless.  
Well, you never knew your luck...

* * *

"Out of my way" Jack growled at the old man who was sitting on the pavement in front of the casino. The codger remained unmoved and, in fact, turned out to be immobile, too.  
Therefore Jack shoved him aside while wedging the rear exit open.

Having left Gwen out in the street he ascended the stairs, taking two at a time. He hurried through the unreal rooms, running along corridors as he tried to detect the heart of this monstrosity, the headquarters inside.  
He still had the TRR in his pocket but all it did was bleeping uncertainly as it issued a statement.

He'd pushed open furnished door after furnished door and the longer he looked the more lost he became. But he could sense it. The more he looked the more unreal it all appeared to be.  
There was no centre; this place squeezed and turned and interloped into itself, changing its own reality all the time.

Therefore Jack was considerably glad as he pushed open a door which opened into what looked like an office. At least it looked like someone who'd never seen an office before would imagine an office to be like.  
It was clean.  
It was tidy with the stacks of paper neatly folded on the table.  
It was plain with reasoned interior decoration.  
It was _unreal_.

Jack was about to rush into the following room when the TRR's indicative bleep caused him to stop in front of the table. He looked up, his eyes scanning the plain wood in front of him.  
There was something odd.  
A flicker. A flash of metal. He saw silver through the metal and reached out.

Without giving it much thought Jack's hand simply passed through the table and grasped the little metal fob watch that had been locked away in a drawer.  
Jack needn't take a second glance at it to identify it as the Doctor's watch; he knew the insignia by heart. He pocketed it quickly, turned on his heel and walked back where he'd come from.

Only the door wasn't there anymore.  
Astounded he took a step back and turned again, noticing from the corner of his eyes that the walls twisted and took new shapes whenever his eyes tried to focus.  
Jack shook off his perplexity and hurried through the next door that presented itself.

He found himself in a bathroom where the walls were still damp and the last remains of air moisture dispersed as he pushed back the door.  
 _Steam_. Gwen had mentioned the steam in the bathroom.

Jack dreaded opening the door that would lead him out of the bathroom; but it was his only lead.  
His stomach had already turned into a knot and the sight that awaited him added insult to injury.

There was a man, a man whose eyes, while taking years off him, had the most penetrating and atrocious glare Jack had ever seen.  
He was sitting on the edge of a large bed, enjoying a smoke in absolute silence while crossing his legs.  
It wasn't until now that Jack realized that the man was naked.

At the sight of him anger and consternation bubbled up inside of Jack and he was close to smashing in the stranger's skull when the TRR announced with a 'bleep' that it had found traces of alien origin. Time Lord origin, albeit not the Doctor's.  
Jack stared at the man intently. Though knowing that he'd been in touch with the Master, and knowing that he'd regret it later on, he spared his life and rushed through a small door that had appeared alongside the bed.  
He stepped through, not as much pushing it open as actually walking through it.

The door vanished behind him and Jack stared down the fire escape ladder.  
 _Too late_.

The mocking words from the Master's previous notes sprang to his mind.  
And while gnashing his teeth Jack had to admit that he'd been right again. He couldn't catch the Doctor by running after him; the Doctor would always be faster.  
But Jack didn't have to chase him.

Because this time Jack knew he had the edge over the Master; someone had stolen the watch off him and he'd found it before the Master.  
And he knew that it would lead him to the Doctor.

* * *

Peace reigned over the quiet streets once more.  
There was the cold in the air; and a sharp, icy smell.  
Thin grey mist curled over the frozen pavement, cloaking the deserted city.  
The conversations and laughter of the revellers had died away long ago and with the creeping cold tightening its grip around the pre-Christmas city the last late-night shoppers sought the soothing warmth of their, or possibly someone else's, homes.

The traffic tapered off, the streets were veiled by a thick, engulfing soundlessness.  
Only a quiet sob could be heard in a forlorn alley.

The Doctor was curled up into a tight ball, trying to expose as little surface to the cold as possible. His fingers felt as though they had frozen off long ago and the biting iciness rasped over his face.  
He wept quietly with his face buried in his freezing hands.  
The Doctor had nowhere to go to. He was on his own, used, abused and shattered.  
To even think that he had resided with the Master, that he had called him 'friend'...

The Doctor wiped his face on his sleeve and readjusted his aching legs.  
He'd sold him out; no, not even that, he'd provided him as a sex toy for his perverted partner's lust.  
And the Doctor had trusted him.  
He had really trusted him because the Master had felt so... familiar. So appeasingly conversant.  
He'd felt safe.

The Doctor sat up and touched his cheeks; they were as cold as ice. With pricking fingers he tried massaging life back into his face.

The Master hadn't only broken his trust but his spirit.  
So the Doctor sat in the dark, devastated and fractured to the core, staring into space.

And then he looked up into the dark sky as the first flakes danced gently in the air and it began to snow.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I wish it was snowing here! And a big thank you to all of you who left a feedback or favourite and followed this story!**


	22. Chapter 22

"No, I'm sorry, I don't have spare change. Please stop asking."  
Gwen was resting on a bench; her feet were aching and she was tired and hungry and out of breath and, most of all, she felt very, very stupid.

Jack had ordered her to go searching for the Doctor. But she had neither the fob watch, nor the TRR nor any device that would assist her during her search.  
All she could do was _look_.  
She dialled Ianto's number again and was hardly surprised when he didn't pick up.  
Though it certainly didn't diminish her anger.

"That's it, I'll quit" Gwen mumbled grumpily while thrusting her cold hands into her coat pockets.  
"Ever since I'm part of the team I'm the resident idiot. That's just not fair." She kicked at the gravel underneath her feet. "I'm even more useless than Ianto."  
Secretly she wished that he'd been eaten by the Pterodactyl because they had forgotten to feed it.  
She only found comfort in knowing that Jack would be furious once Ianto would have explained where he'd been. Wherever that was.  
Come to think of it, he may be better off if he was dead; then at least he wouldn't have to face Jack.

"Ahem... bugg'rit?"  
Gwen turned around angrily, staring at the old codger.  
Ah, the next problem: What to do with a harmless yet annoying thought to be alien who hovers over you? (Metaphorically thinking of course; though Gwen was sure that he'd be a lot more fun if he floated in the air. It would really top off his balloon-like appearance)

Actually Gwen felt a bit embarrassed. The old man seemed to be harmless; he was a bit odd and his eyebrows tended to twitch uncontrollably but apart from that he appeared to be almost human.  
And yet he was getting on her nerves.  
She didn't even know how he'd managed following her. He was old, he was fat, he was slow and yet whenever she turned around he was right behind her.  
As if he could be in different places at the same time...

"Hubba hubba?" the old codger mumbled and there was that waggling of eyebrows again.  
"That's meant to be rude, isn't it?" Gwen grumbled. She had given up on finding the Doctor. She _knew_ that Jack would find him first. "I'm sure it's something rude."

The old man settled down on the gravel in front of Gwen, looking up at her intently. The pool of fat that he called his waist deliquesced.  
He was rustling through the pages of the ominous book though Gwen had failed to witness how it had appeared in his hands.  
 _Wait._

"Oh no" Gwen whispered under her breath "Not again."  
The old codger stared at her in bewilderment.  
"Listen" Gwen went on and could barely hide her annoyance "I've had enough of this medium-thing. You don't have to speak through me, you can talk for yourself, I've heard you talking. Now if you'd be so kind as to stop communicating throughout my supernatural intuition I'd be eternally grateful."

The old homeless man wasn't prepared for so much attention. He looked around wonderingly and when he'd been sure that Gwen had actually spoken to him he flashed a brilliant smile with teeth as white as snow.  
Gwen was surprised that he even had a single tooth left.  
And before she could have protested he had already placed the book in her lap and patted her hand thoughtfully.  
"Now look..." Gwen began but stopped when the book was opened.  
Her finger ran over the circles on the first page, tracing the spots as if it was embossed printing.  
And to her own horror she realized that she could decipher it.

"You better not... cry?" Gwen read out loud and thoughtfully. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
The old man shrugged at her and retrieved the book. He stared at the page before ripping it out and stuffing it into his mouth. He chewed noisily and while smiling mildly.

Gwen sighed under her breath, her head resting in her hands.

"That about sums it up doesn't it?" she snorted. And looked up.  
And looked down. And looked up again, squinting against the sun.

"That's..." Gwen held her breath before staring down at the codger in front of her.  
"Did that crate just fall out of the sky?" she asked accusingly. The old homeless man shrugged before lifting his gaze. Then he lifted it some more.

"Look, did you see that...?"  
Gwen was cut off as the codger had grasped her hands, squeezing them tightly albeit gently.  
She tried catching his gaze. Then she followed his stare up into the sky, into the clouds above them.

Her mouth dropped open.

* * *

Against Gwen's expectations Jack's search hadn't been successful. Not yet, he kept telling himself.  
But the TRR kept picking up signals and he head a trace.  
He _knew_ that he would find him today. He'd never felt so sure of anything in his life.

He was so consumed in his thoughts of finding the Doctor that his heart nearly stopped beating when the phone in his coat pocket rang.  
Without looking at the display he picked it up.

"Jack, it's the rift!"  
In one swift movement Jack had managed to hold the phone at arm's length in order to keep his hearing.  
"What do you mean 'it's the rift'?" Jack asked without stopping once.  
"Look up!" Gwen shouted, her voice ringing in his ears throughout the phone "It's opening. The rift is opening up above London!"

Jack stared open mouthed at the strangely distorted overcast sky. If you didn't know what you were looking at you'd probably confuse the scenery ahead with an oncoming storm.  
But he'd seen it before. Jack had watched it a hundred times.  
The creation of a wormhole.

He stared at the unaware city and looked up again.  
And he knew there was only one who could help them now.

Jack hissed between gritted teeth. He turned this way and that. Then he closed his eyes and increased his grip on the TRR.  
"I'll call you back" he replied concisely and hung up.

* * *

The Doctor felt dizzy. Right now he wished he'd been killed by frost last night. At least then he would be in a better place. And there were lots of better places than London covered in slush. Pretty much everything was better than London covered in slush.

Falling asleep had actually been quite peaceful. He'd felt... so infinitely pacified.  
And now...

Wearily he stared at the swelling up streets. People. People flowing over the pavement, cramming, squeezing into every tight spot.  
The Doctor observed them with a light headedness induced by sleep-deprivation.

Humankind.  
Hah.  
Has earth itself ever created more boastful beings? Who else would designate themselves with a word meaning kind-hearted?

Scum.  
That's what they were. Each one of them. Just scum. Neat and nice on the outside but underneath gaped caverns filled with desires and obnoxiousness.  
Deep, deep caverns...Caverns of perdition...  
And even while they walked chatting quietly on the streets blood lust, death instincts and repulsiveness was all the Doctor saw.

Vermin. Each of them replenished with sleaze.

The Doctor was aware that he was slowly cracking up. But he'd stopped caring about it a long time ago.  
So what?  
The world was filled with madness and hatred. And who cared about it? He was starving, he'd been starving for days. And still the passersby smiled, talking, laughing all the time...

And he needed money. Money, right.  
And he looked desperate and he knew it. He'd been offered a chance to... fulfil a complaisance.  
But he hadn't taken it. He hadn't taken it because he'd been stupid and believed in things like pride and holding his head up.  
But you couldn't feed upon self-respect, could you?

The Doctor smacked his lips tiredly.  
One way down; only one way forward.  
Standing up or lying down or any way at all.  
It was all about drives and urges in the end, wasn't it? Satisfaction and sex. In a hyped up, oversexed world and it was still about just one thing...

The Doctor smiled. He'd spotted his next chance. Jack had come back for him. And he wasn't too different from the others, was he?  
At least he _begged_ him...

The Doctor leaned against a street lamp, smiling in an overenthusiastic, mad way at his approaching customer.  
"Found me again, have you?" the Doctor giggled, half crazed with hunger "But don't worry; this time I'm all yours. I won't run, I promise." He raised his voice a bit as he shouted: "Come on Captain, you can wear your shoes."

Jack had narrowed his eyes at him. Then he charged.  
Before the Doctor could have protested he was pinned against a wall, one hand clamped over his mouth.  
The other was thrust out and grabbed his arms forcefully.

He flinched as the cold metal was pressed into his hand.

* * *

 **Author's Note: But the question is: Where has Ianto been? Has he been caught in fight with a giant squid? Did he have to investigate a murder? Or has he been sold off by an alien slaveship as a field hand? What do you think? Leave your thoughts in the comment whether they're serious or not. The best one will be picked and incorporated into the story.**  
 **Oh and by the way: this chapter referenced a story of one of my (former) favourite fan fiction authors. Can you guess who it is?**  
 **And, of course, a musical reference which a lot of you surely spotted.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: So yeah, the Doctor really went all Fantine on Jack back there. And special thanks to SheaTSarc for the hilariously absurd idea! You're awesome! Thanks for the continued support! :D**

* * *

It was like a thunderstorm that blustered inside of the Doctor's head.  
At his mere touch the fob watch in his hand had sprung open. Now it was resting in his hand, glowing and engulfing the Doctor in the most brilliant golden light.

Jack covered his eyes in order not to go blind.

The air was buzzing, sizzling and crackling under the pressure of the reticulating life energy that escaped its far too small enclosure in the fob watch.  
There was a strangely deafening, sucking noise, like that time when you were a little child and your auntie missed your cheek and kissed your ear instead. Only it sounded like it was reverberating throughout the world and not just your skull.

And there were whispers... the air was thick and heavy with voices long forgotten, with delightful sounds, unearthly melodies and tunes and a feeling of ancientness.

And in the middle of it the Doctor stood, trembling and staring wide eyed at the wonders before his eyes.

The gleaming light flickered, which made the golden streams look like very small dots of tinsel, and vanished as the Doctor drew a deep breath, breathing in the shimmering spectacle.  
He stared.  
Then he coughed up the last glittering remains.

Jack blinked and remembered that he had to breathe; he'd held his breath out of pure astonishment.  
The Doctor clapped his hands together: "So, as I was saying..."  
Then his gaze travelled upwards and he caught sight of the squirming sky and tearing clouds.  
"Run!" the Doctor shouted and darted off towards the nearest thing that would give shelter.  
For now a bus shelter sufficed.  
Jack came to a halt beside him, out of breath and with his hearts beating madly; but he was happier than ever. As the Doctor had shouted he'd run with him instinctively; some things are deeply rooted.

"Doctor..." Jack began as he tried meeting his gaze. But the Doctor was occupied in his own thoughts.  
"Not now, Jack" he replied as he patter his pockets, searching for his belongings. Gladly he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and shook it a few times before it would respond to his touch.  
"Mh... the shortwave transmitter must be damaged... or the electromagnetic radiation field has reached the atmosphere already" he babbled, half to himself before holding out a hand to Jack "And give me your phone."  
Jack pressed it into the Doctor's hand unconsciously.  
And he stared at the Doctor as he cracked it open and fumbled with the small parts inside.

Just like that. One moment a helplessly overstrained human being and in the next moment...  
"No, no, no, no, don't do that now" the Doctor hissed while he soniced some small metal bits.  
Jack barely found the words. Maybe that was what Time Lords lacked, he mused later on; Time Lords never think. They just see what is really there.

And right now the Doctor saw one of the biggest threats to humankind.

"Doctor!"  
Jack snapped back to reality at the sound of Gwen's voice. She nearly cannoned into him as he turned.  
"It's all over the city by now" Gwen explained exhaustedly.  
"It's beyond that" the Doctor replied while patting his pockets again. "Glasses, where are my glasses? What did I do with them? How can I think without my glasses?"  
"It's scaring" Gwen explained, looking up desperately.  
"You should be scared" the Doctor replied, only half listening.

In contrast to Jack Gwen wasn't reduced to silence by the Doctor's words.  
"What is it?" she asked worriedly.  
"A stitch in time" the Doctor replied and "Phone please."  
It did the magic trick on Gwen as well and the Doctor had broken it in no time.

"No trans-dimensional inhibitor, no reverse thrust booster, but hah! That's a renewed vacillation amplifier, well done." The Doctor ripped out a small blue part that looked like a half melted crystal ball.  
"What do you mean 'a stitch in time'?"  
"Stitch in time saves nine" the Doctor retorted promptly.  
"What?!"  
He looked up into Gwen's irritated expression. "It's a code, a de-conversion of rhythms... it's a number expressed in a numeral system... like a binary code."  
Seeing Gwen's face still contorted in incomprehension and annoyed by the human's incapability to grasp the obvious he went on:

"It's not just a rift, it's the rift I've closed over Cardiff popping up here again."  
"You did that."  
It was the first thing Jack had said so far. He wasn't exactly proud of it.  
God, he thought, that's what it must feel like to be Ianto.  
"Yes" the Doctor replied "And you can thank me later. Anyway, it should have stayed closed. At least for a little while longer."

Nervously the Doctor looked back and forth between the sky and the completing machinery in his hands. Dark streaks of what looked like thin smoke appeared and vanished in the convulsing clouds. Though it was too lithesome to be smoke and somehow it appeared to be... electric.

"Here they come" the Doctor mumbled barely hiding his nervousness as he locked gaze with the dark smoke.  
"Alright Gwen, listen, I need to get to the TARDIS as soon as possible, where is she?"  
"Back at out hotel room" Gwen replied instantly "Ianto was doing the research but he's... we don't even know where he is."  
"The TARDIS is _in_ London?" the Doctor asked. "That's brilliant, this way I can operate from here. I need to unlock her, can you give Ianto a call and see if he's..." the Doctor's words dwindled into nothingness as he stared down onto two broken phones.  
"Nah, I'll try it myself with" he added and raised his hand, holding the glowing sonic screwdriver against the dark storm.  
He almost looks like a beacon, Jack thought admiringly.

"I need to boost the signal" he shouted against the oncoming storm "Otherwise they'll rip it open."  
"Rip what open?" Gwen yelled.  
"The rift. The small gap in reality. They'll try anything to break through."  
Gwen could feel a strange tension building up, dashing away, passing through everything it was opposed to. And for some reason she was starting to feel very cold...

"Who's _they_?" Gwen managed above the noise.  
"They don't have a name" the Doctor replied while pressing the sonic screwdriver into the assembled small machine he'd just now created "Because they don't even exist. Not properly. They're non-existence."  
"But I can see them" Gwen protested over the storm.  
"I said non-existence not nonexistent. The universe isn't infinite; there are limits to everything. Limited space, limited creation, even your own imagination has its limits. There's only so much you can imagine. But it all ends somewhere. Just like reality. And that's where _they_ come in."

Quietly they stared at the sky. The clouds hadn't vanished; they had somehow become something... more substantial. More solid. And while being in constant flux there were... shapes.  
That's all you could call them. Just shapes.  
And they were spreading.

"On Gallifrey we called them 'Reapers of Time'. They're not aliens, they're nothing. Literally nothing. They don't exist. But they're trying anything to change that. Whenever there's a ripple in the universe, a small gap, a hole, or any kind of distortion in the fabric of reality they're there... trying to squeeze through."

"What for? I mean, what are they trying to achieve?" Gwen whispered aghast.  
"Oh, nothing" the Doctor replied gloatingly "Just trying to rip up the universe."  
"How? I mean how can you rip up the universe" Jack finally found his voice again.  
"It's only a thicker kind of fabric" the Doctor explained bluntly, evading his gaze "They're trying to pass from non-existence to existence. But it's not as simple as that."

The screwdriver's tip slowly changed from dark blue to a bright green.

"You can't just pop into reality. It doesn't work like that. Everything has to start somewhere and everything has its end. You can't skip the beginning and jump right to the part where it's getting interesting, reality doesn't work like that. Reality is like a thick rubber sheet. You can bend it, you can squeeze it, you can stretch it and it will always jump back into its previous position. But once you break it..."  
"And they reapers come when it has broken" Jack deducted.  
"For now it's only a gap. And it needs to be closed but I can't do it from here."  
"Then what are you doing?" Jack asked.  
"Stitching it up" the Doctor replied, almost bringing himself to a smile "This way the hole will shrink while they try to pass through and they'll clog it up. It buys us time."

"Oh, which reminds me" the Doctor said while patting an inner pocket of his coat. He retrieved a cell phone before throwing it at Gwen.  
"Give Ianto a call. Tell him I want the TARDIS here as soon as possible."  
"But you had to destroy mine, hadn't you?" Gwen replied huffish before turning away to dial.

The Doctor lowered his arm, watching intently how the shapes distorted. They weren't vanishing but compressed, squeezed together and became an unobtrusive, thick cloud once again.  
Jack watched the spectacle with an unfamiliar light-headedness.  
He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face the Doctor.

"Thank you" the Doctor whispered quietly against the dropping wind.  
The pressure on Jack's chest increased. And he felt so ashamed for having to bite back tears right now.

"Ianto, where are you? What do you mean at the mall...No, no we're not. We're not at the mall, why should we be? Chicken? What bucket of chicken? No, you're not... no, Torchwood, listen Ianto it's Gwen and you need to get back to the hotel as soon as... what's that noise? Well, could you please stop ringing that bell I can't hear a thing! Ianto! Ianto, I..."

Then she stared at the phone as if it had said something offensive before waving it at the Doctor.  
"He hung up on me. I think he might be terminally ill."

"Then we'll better get back to the hotel" Jack managed.  
"Yeah, great idea" the Doctor cut him off and nodded towards Gwen who parked nearby "Come on, it's not over yet."  
Jack felt his heart sagging once again at the coldness in the Doctor's voice.

* * *

The codger had completely forgotten about the slowly brightening sky.  
He'd forgotten about everything around him.  
He just sat there, staring at the book.  
He opened it up, eying up the current first page critically. He knew that only one more page would be underneath.  
He ripped it out.

Golden light streamed from the alley he was lingering in.  
The codger dared to look down at the writing.

And then he remembered.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: Alright. The Doctor's doing lots of techno babble and a small, Christmassy twist at the end of the chapter. That's the last chapter sp enjoy and Merry Christmas to all of you!**

* * *

"Really sir, I'm sorry. But I don't remember what happened."  
Jack listened to Ianto's laments from behind the door. For lack of a quarantine zone they had locked him up in the bathroom.  
Ianto had been feeling dizzy when Jack finally had picked him up. And they had connived at the fact that he'd been dressed like Farther Christmas. And they had let him keep his bucket filled with chicken.  
After all it was nearly Christmas.

"Really sir, it was just a side job. I don't know how I got into all of this."  
Jack sighed while folding his arms. He leaned back, resting his head against the door.  
Though quiet he was Ianto experienced the strangest things in his spare time; therefore it was better not to ask and just try to keep him from ringing bells for a few days or so.

The hotel room had become pretty crowded; the TARDIS stood in the middle of the floor, one door open so that Gwen's eyes started to water whenever she tried to focus on the bigger-on-the-inside room beyond. It was a problem of the depth of field; her brain refused to accept that there could be something further away than the room's far wall.  
So Gwen had turned her back to the Doctor who worked both inside and outside of the TARDIS and both at the same time mostly.

"The long tweezers, please."  
Gwen grabbed the tweezers and turned slowly with closed eyes.  
"Humans, ey?" the Doctor sighed "Always so complicated." He tsk-tsked quietly as he was handed the tweezers and started working again.  
"Just one more coil... yes and a bit more of the green wobbly bit... that's about it. Now Gwen, if you'd be so kind as to hold this..."  
An arm was stretched out of the TARDIS holding what looked like oversized battery-jumper-cables, giant block terminals included.  
Gwen took them gingerly, expecting to become accidentally electrocuted any minute now.

"Nasty things Reapers of Time" the Doctor mumbled while fumbling with some more cables "They're drawn to flaws in reality like moths to a flame. And that paradox the Master has created must have been a good catch. He has altered reality after all... I'm actually quite surprised that the world is still standing."  
"The Master did this?" Gwen asked cautiously.  
"Oh no. No, no, no, the Master's just a hanger-on. No, there had been a distortion in reality. It happens, that's all. It just got out of hand..."

The Doctor took a step back, or rather into the room and out of the TARDIS, and inspected his new machinery closely. "Oh, you're a beauty" he whispered quietly.

"Doctor" Gwen interrupted before the Doctor could have started hugging his recent invention. "You put yourself in great danger by using the Chameleon Arch."  
"I know" he replied thoughtfully "But it was necessary."

Jack, who had entered the room soundlessly, leaned against the door frame. He had his arms akimbo.  
"Why?" he asked after a while.  
The Doctor turned to face him. "Glad you asked" he replied without even the least bit of sarcasm hidden in his voice "Because the Reapers of Time live on excrescent energy; spare energy that's just floating around, useless and dispersed. It's potential energy, that's what it is, the possibility of time. So you can imagine that as I am, as a Time Lord, just easy pickings, full of unused potential and possibility."  
And self-importance, Jack added mentally.  
"One of it has escaped to this world and I knew that it could only survive as long as wasted energy was available. So I figured it would be for the best if I quit being a Time Lord for quite a while."  
He stared at Jack knowingly; unconsciously Jack clenched his fists.

"I never thought that just a single Time Reaper could cause so much trouble. But that's the trouble, isn't it? Things that aren't meant to be should never exist. You never know what happens..." The Doctor shot Jack a knowing glance. Then he turned back to his machine.

Jack felt uncomfortable, as though something was expected of him.  
"So" the Doctor went on, ignoring the building-up tension between them "Since the Paradox has been extended we have to condense it to the core, just compress and compress until there's nothing left of it."

"What about the people?" Gwen interrupted. "At the casino I thought there were... _real_ people."  
"Oh, they are real people" the Doctor replied.  
"But won't they get sucked with it?" Gwen asked.  
The Doctor stared at her for a moment. Then his face light up "Oh no, no, no, no, it's the wrong matter, you see? The Paradox is... like a different parameter on a different scale. It will merely dissolve, passing through the people involved with it like thin mist. They won't even notice."

The Doctor made some more last-minute adjustments on his machine. "O'course" he added after a while "They may suffer from partial amnesia and experience attacks of migraine."

Jack screwed up his courage and bit back his pride: "Doctor, I really need to..."  
"And, allons-y!" the Doctor shouted at the top of his voice. Faint blue light elucidated the hotel room as the machine inside of the TARDIS came to life.

"It won't take long, I promise" the Doctor said and patted Gwen on the shoulder. Then he raised his gaze to face Jack.  
"Is there somewhere where we could talk in confidence?" he asked earnestly.  
"We could let Ianto out of the bathroom" Jack replied "But I'm still not sure whether he's contagious."  
"I'll have a quick look at him" the Doctor said before sonicing the door open.  
Jack rolled his eyes: "I have a key."  
The Doctor snorted "Key but no class."

"Really sir, I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to cause trouble..." Ianto made a beeline for them but was determinedly grabbed by the Doctor and soniced. He waited a moment, stared at the results, shrugged and pushed him out of the room.  
"He was suffering from a rare virus usually associated with mall Santa's. With their constantly moist pants, due to the children wetting themselves, they catch a fungus ever so often. And with a low immunity and the regularly sick child in their lap they catch the strangest things." He took another glance at him before slamming the door in his face "Right now he's just Ianto. That's as bad as it can get."

Jack took some time locking the door. He didn't know what he would talk about. He felt the urge to talk to the Doctor. After all that had happened.

"Do you mind if I have a shower?" the Doctor asked after flinching while sniffing his clothes "I smell."

"No, it's alright" Jack replied, annoyed by the Doctor's incapacity to stand still and do nothing except listen for more than a couple of seconds. "I'll just stand there and watch the door, shall I?"  
"Great idea, make yourself useful" the Doctor replied with unexpected bitterness.

Jack clenched his fists and turned around. "You're a fine one to talk."  
The Doctor, half naked, stared at him unabashed. But Jack didn't give him time to reply. "You've been completely useless for more than three weeks and I've been worried sick because of you! I've been in a constant chase after you, I haven't slept, I haven't eaten for two days, I haven't had time for anything because of you! Because you think that you can save the world on your own while you're always relying on others. You wouldn't last a week on this planet without anyone's help. And when it's time for your great moment you toss those who have helped and supported you aside, act the maverick and save the world. But you couldn't do it on your own! You need help, you always need help! And you never even say thank you!"

The Doctor was silent. This was even more annoying than having him senselessly talking all the time.  
"I thanked you" the Doctor replied after a while "As soon as I remembered what you had done for me, I'd said 'thank you'."  
Jack felt that a reply was expected of him; but he would own it the Doctor.  
He had already said too much.

The Doctor patted his shoulders tenderly and leaned forward until they wouldn't only lock gazes but stand forehead against pressed forehead.

"I know what you did for me," the Doctor went on "And I'm really sorry that you had to go through all of this. I wish I hadn't needed you. But I did. And if I can ever make it up to you let me know."

And that's that, Jack thought. For the Doctor it was all considered done.  
No questions, no "How did you find me?" or "Did you know that the Master runs his own enterprise again?"  
Just nothing. For the Doctor it was long gone and forgotten.

Jack watched the Doctor absent-minded while he stepped into the shower.  
But after all, Jack mused, it wasn't easy for him either. Every time he used the Chameleon Arch a new, true human being was born; and every time it would die and fade into the vast grey sea of the Doctor's mind, neither dead nor alive. Just part of the bigger picture.  
And as a fellow revenant he wondered what it must feel like to not only die but wake up as a different person.

"Do you want to come too?" the Doctor asked. Jack lifted his gaze, realizing that he'd until now stared at the Doctor's private's unintentionally.  
"No, sorry I didn't mean to..." he began.  
"It's alright" the Doctor cut him off "I don't mind. And I said I'd make it up to you."  
"I'm not desperate" Jack replied though the skin beneath his skin started to tingle.  
The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at him.  
"You're a human being from the fifty-first century" he explained "You're _always_ desperate."

The Doctor couldn't even blink before Jack was beside him, closing the door.  
And he as he turned on the water he was already starting the canoodling...

"They should be gone by now" the Doctor said after a while of hot warmness gushing over their bodies. "The Reapers must have dispersed."  
"No grief?" Jack asked, surprised as the Doctor's unconcerned voice. The Doctor shrugged.  
"They're not even alive, Jack" he replied while snuggling up against him "and I didn't kill them. I simply sent them back to where they belonged."  
"But you said it was like hell," Jack went on "You once explained to me that outside of the walls of reality diabolical pandemonium reigns."

The Doctor closed his eyes and huddled up closer. "Everything has its place in the universe. Even if that place is outside."

"That's physically impossible" Jack replied while chuckling.  
"For humans that is," the Doctor added "For Time Lord it's simply 'advanced physics'."

"So no alien threat this year?" Jack asked after a while.  
"I s'ppose so" the Doctor replied.

And then Jack remembered.

"But there was this man" he said hurriedly and tried to get past the Doctor and out of the shower.  
"What man?" the Doctor asked while holding him back.  
"This old man... he... the TRR detected traces of alien origin upon him and he... He looked like a homeless codger, lurching around the street and he had this... calendar thing with ancient circular writing and I thought it was Gallifreyan...and he escaped his imprisonment..."  
"Really?" the Doctor asked with mild disinterest "How did he do that?"  
"He escaped via a narrow window," Jack replied. The Doctor watched him intently.  
"Not a chimney?" the Doctor asked half mockingly.  
"Stop making fun of me" Jack replied "No, he... I don't know how he managed it and... he had this... sack he always carried around..."

Jack's voice trailed off.  
The Doctor chuckled quietly.  
"So Torchwood finally met Santa Claus."

"He's not Santa Claus" Jack snapped instantly. A bit more uncertain he added "Is he?"  
"No" he answered his own question after a while "There is no Santa Claus."

"Actually there's just Shantana Khalus" the Doctor explained "Don't ask me how they got to Santa Claus."  
"And" the Doctor added after Jack had let it sink in "He's the last of his kind."  
"No, stop, wait," Jack nearly cut him off "Are you telling me that Santa Claus is really? I thought he was some kind of... mythological personification for spring's return to nature or whatever."

"No" the Doctor replied "Santa Claus is an alien. How else do you think he can travel around the whole world in one night? It's advanced physics, Jack. Advanced alien physics. His spaceship has its own Heisenbergsche Unschärferelation's Distortion Inhibitor which allows him to travel faster than the speed of light. The sleigh-design is probably just for the looks; it's definitely not aerodynamical."

"How come he's so... charitable?" Jack asked wonderingly.  
"Oh, long story" the Doctor began "The Shantana Khali enslaved all kind of races across the universe during their reign in the dark ages. He's the only survivor. And he still has pangs of conscience. He feels responsible for his ancestor's terrible deeds."  
"So he brings presents to all the children in the world?" Jack asked disbelievingly.  
"Oh not all, I don't think so" the Doctor replied "Just to those who really need it. And it's not just the earth. Other planets too."

"And the rest of the year he's a hobo because..."Jack went on.  
"Because he needs a safe place to stay and he's hidden his true self in a Shantana cubicle. The book you found. It's something like the Chameleon Arch. The Time Lords took the Shantana Khali's invention and... improved it."  
"Oh, and believe me" the Doctor added, "London's suburbs are paradise compared to other planets these days."

"You just screwed up religion, mythology and my trust in mankind," Jack said grouchily while he turned off the water.  
"But" the Doctor countered "On the other hand you now know the true meaning of the current holiday."  
He slapped Jack on the back more forceful than necessary.

"And Merry Christmas!"

* * *

 **And a very Merry Christmas to all my readers! Thank you so much for keeping up and the support! It was so much fun! Thank you!**


End file.
